


The Truth Shall Set You Free

by Fangirling_FTW



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Archangels, Bottom Castiel, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Destiel - Freeform, Eventual Smut, Feelings, First Time, Fluff, Happy Ending, Human Castiel, Light Angst, M/M, Mark of Cain, Minor Injuries, My First Destiel Fanfic, Slow Build, Top Dean, true to character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-08
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-03-22 22:27:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 34,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3745828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirling_FTW/pseuds/Fangirling_FTW
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's been searching for answers, and when he finds someone who can give them to him, he's saddled with Castiel, who's almost fresh out of grace.  Can two broken souls take on their deepest secrets and come out the other side?<br/>_____________________<br/>Okay, so this is my first attempt at a Fanfic!  It's canon all the way through 10.16 "Paint it Black".  I tried to keep as close to character as possible, but sue me for wanting a semi-happy ending for these guys!<br/>It's a bit of a slow build, but I tried to make the wait worth it!</p>
<p>COMMENTS ARE MY DRUG! FEED MY ADDICTION XD</p>
<p>Please leave comments! It means the world to get your feedback :D</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Be Careful What You Look For

Sam wasn't convinced. Not that it mattered to Dean.

"I'm going, I don't need your freakin' permission."

"But this is dangerous, Dean," Sam pressed, "you have to admit that..."

"I can handle it," Dean said. His brow was furrowed, his right fist clenched tight, pulling at the red skin and the Mark on his arm. _No, you can't_ , Sam thought to himself.

"At least do some more research, we can't go in-"

"No, Sam, there's no we this time." Dean snapped. "I'm doing this, you're staying here."  By the tone of his voice he would take no more arguing from his brother.

"Dean..." Sam started but it fell on deaf ears. Dean had already left, heading down the hallway to pack his things. Sam rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, willing his headache to go away. The last hunt they had been on was simple, just rousting a small nest of vampires, but Sam had been careless. He had been grabbed, lost a bit too much blood, and had thoroughly pissed Dean off because of it.  Not that it was hard to piss Dean off nowadays, Sam could look at him strangely and hit a nerve.  They were dancing on eggshells and grasping at straws, and they were both suffering.

A knock sounded above Sam's head, coming from the front door to the compound. He made his way up the steps grabbing an angel blade along the way out of habit and slowly opened the door.

"Hello, Sam." The familiar outline of their 'holy tax accountant' came into view. Sam quickly stowed the angel blade.

"Cas, hey." He stepped back to let him in, noticing the severe slump of Cas' shoulders, the heaviness of his steps as he made his way down the staircase. It seemed Castiel's borrowed grace was still fading. Sam thought he noticed old blood stains and some new tears in his trench coat. "You okay?" Sam asked.

"I'm not sure how to answer that," Cas said, doing that strange thing where he sounds confused at the sound of his own voice. "But I appreciate your concern," he added. He looked around, and Sam definitely noticed a weariness in his normally bright blue eyes. "Where's Dean?"  Cas also didn't appear to have shaved or bathed in quite some time. The fact that he needed to was enough to show what a bad state he was in.

"Cas?" Dean's voice drifted in from the hallway, his duffles on his shoulders.

"Dean," Cas replied. Sam glared at the duffles but didn't say anything, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

"What's going on, Cas? Did you need something?" Dean sticks his gun in the back of his pants, pulling his blue flannel shirt over it. Cas just looks at Dean for a while, not saying anything. Sam can see the discomfort on Dean's face from the angel's scrutiny and smirks at his brother.

"You're leaving." Cas says.  It's not a question.

"Yeah, following some leads on a case down in Florida." Sam knew Dean was just going to leave it at that, not tell Cas what he thought he found. Maybe if Cas knew, he could talk some sense into Dean.

"Dean thinks he found an angel," Sam said, ignoring the burn from Dean's eyes.

"An angel," Cas repeats, his brow furrowing.

"Yeah, there's been power outages and surges all over the grid."

"Sammy-"

"Small, yet strange miracles,"

" _Sammy_!!"

"And apparently an entire town is having difficulty lying about, well, anything." Dean's furious, Sam can see it on his face. "Local newspaper is blowing up with stories of affairs, political secrets, businesses telling their customers _not_ to buy their products. Police station was overrun by people confessing their crimes." As Sam talks, the anger from his brother is completely overshadowed by the fact Cas has suddenly blanched, his eyes widening alarmingly.

"I'm not feeling well," Cas said strangely, starting to stumble forwards.

"Cas?!" Dean dropped the duffles and ran over to the slumped figure, lowering him into a chair. "Cas!  Talk to me man!" Cas just stared at Dean, something between fear and anger on his face.

"I am sorry," he began, his voice more hoarse than usual. He coughed and continued. "Dean you cannot go." Dean smirked, all concern gone in an instant, pointedly ignoring the fear in Cas' voice.

"Like you get to tell me what to do," he said, forcefully, walking back to his bags and picking them up. Sam reflected that maybe Cas should have chosen different words.

"Dean, please, for once listen to me!" Cas shouted, pushing himself back up from the chair. To Sam's surprise, Dean froze. There was something in Cas' voice, the urgency in how he said it, that even made Sam nervous.

"Cas, do you know who it is?" Sam said quietly, the thought suddenly occurring to him. Castiel hesitated a moment, seeming to have an internal debate with himself. For a few moments, the three of them stood in still silence.

 

***

 

"I believe I do know, Sam." Castiel finally said, "And they're more dangerous than any angel we've faced so far." He tried to ignore the fear twisting his stomach, struggling through exhaustion to try and think.

"Including Raphael? Why?" Sam asked. Dean was stewing, Castiel could see it. All the anger and rage flowing across his face, his right fist clenched tightly. Cas sighed. He was so tired, he had just come to check in on Dean, maybe get some rest in a safe place.  He should know better; when it came to the Winchesters, nothing was ever simple.

"I'm afraid you need to trust me on this, please." He said, knowing how weak it sounded. He could tell Sam was worried about Dean, and so was he. The Mark was boring into Dean, every day, trying desperately to quench the small shining light that remained in him. The light that used to shine so bright...

"I want to, Cas, I really do," Dean sighed, the pain in his voice barely concealed. "But this is something I've got to do." He started walking towards the door.

"Why?" Cas asked. He genuinely had no idea why Dean was seeking out an angel in the first place. Espeically this angel. Most _angels_ had avoided her when they could, all except for Gabriel. He watched Dean's face carefully, watching his emotions slide across it. He had been watching that face for years now, and while he still wouldn't consider himself an expert in human emotion, he knew Dean. Anger that he was being subjected to this questioning, the need to trust his friends in conflict with his seeming need to keep his true reasons a secret. His desire to keep everyone at a distance. Cas could see all of this and yet, still not understand the why of it.

"I just need to do this," Dean said.

"Then don't do it alone." Sam chimed in. Both Castiel and Dean looked over at Sam in bewliderment.

"Are you crazy?! You're not -"

"Sam, this angel is-"

"-really serious, I told you-"

"-far to dangerous for-"

"STOP!" Sam shouted. "Dean, I get it, you've got a bug up your ass that says you have to do this. And I get that you don't want me to go." He gestured at Castiel. "But you're going to face down an angel, at least take one with you." Dean just stared at Sam like he had grown three heads.

"Sam, I'm afraid I'm also damaged. I don't believe I'd be any help to Dean," Cas admitted quietly, his head throbbing just behind his eyes.  He appreciated Sam for his faith, but it was seriously misplaced.

"You just need some rest," Sam insisted. He raised his hands in a peaceful gesture as he approached Dean, reaching for his duffles. Dean grabbed hold of them tightly, childishly.

"Sammy-" he warned again.

"Dean, just one more night," Sam said, placatingly. "Let Cas rest, then you two head for Florida together, find your angel, and get whatever you want from them." Castiel looked between the brothers, watching the silent battle of wills. He had grown accustomed to this over the years, the arguing, the fighting, covering their absolute devotion to each other. It's amazing the lengths the two grown men will go to to avoid expressing their feelings. Castiel tilts his head in amusement.

"I suppose Cas can come along if he wants," Dean says grudgingly, and the relief on Sam's face is palpable.  Dean drops his duffels by the door, looking over at Castiel. "You will not get in my way." He grumpily points a finger at Cas who just nods, too tired to argue. He seems to notice the angel's appearance for the first time, wrinkling his nose slightly. "And you're getting a shower before riding in a car with me for two days." He stomps off to his room, bumping Sam's shoulder on his way out.

"Sorry, for roping you into this Cas," Sam says apologetically after Dean's out of earshot, rubbing at his new bruise.  Cas continued watching the empty hallway after Dean was out of sight.

"You were right to do so, Sam," Castiel said quietly.  Dean was in really bad shape, worse than Castiel would have liked.  The Mark hadn't slipped his mind, far from it, but still he felt like by not being around Dean, he had stopped feeling the immediacy of what it was doing to him.  He stared at the floor for a moment, lost in thought. Or what he thought was a moment.

"Cas?" Sam said, cautiously. Cas raised his head, shaking off his sudden guilt trip.

"I think I'll take a shower," he said, walking towards the room that Sam and Dean let him use when he stayed with them.

"Cas," Sam said, following him and gesturing at his clothes. "I should probably wash those." He squinted in a bit of disgust, "And your jacket could use some work." Cas looked down. He had indeed let his physical appearance and hygiene go a bit. Being on his own lately he hadn't worried about it.

"Yes, I believe a change of clothes would be a good idea." He shrugged out of his coat, handing it to Sam.

"So... what have you been doing?" he asked.

"Well, hunting, I suppose. I've been looking for more information on the Mark, and if I find a monster, I put it down."

"On your own?"

"I shall try not to take offense at your surprise," Cas said, knowing Sam didn't mean anything by it. When they reached the bathroom, Sam gestured at the floor.

"Just toss your clothes... I'll find you some of Dean's old stuff to wear in the meantime." He walked off, leaving Castiel to his shower and his thoughts. Cas climbed under the water, letting it wash the layer of grime away. It already made him feel better, the flow of the hot water down his back, across the slight indents on his shoulders marking where his wings would be. _If I still had them,_ he sighed, feeling again the uselessness of being without his true grace. He wanted to help, but every time he did anything, he felt his borrowed grace fading. Without it he knew his vessel wouldn't last long, but he was growing tired. Tired of fighting, tired of living on borrowed time.

And now this. If the angel Dean found is the one Castiel thinks... Dean's gotten himself in deep. Castiel was scared to confront her, to face her and what it could mean. It would mean answers, for sure, but would he like those answers? Would Dean? He wasn't sure if Dean had figured out who she was yet. To be honest, he had no idea what was going on in Dean's mind, what he hoped to accomplish. The Mark weighed heavy on all of them, more than Cas wanted to admit. It was funny, he thought to himself, how his time among the humans had changed him. All these emotions, these feelings that troubled him, they were sometimes still so new to him even after all these years. Still so much to learn.

When he felt thoroughly cleansed, he turned off the water and stepped out to find some clothes, a razor, and a toothbrush on the counter. Sam must have brought them in while he was lost in his musings. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. Weary blue eyes stared at him from a face covered with stubble, lines creasing at the corners of his eyes. He's grown so accustomed to this face, his vessel's face, he's almost forgotten it's not his true form. He's been so close to humans, for so long, he forgets sometimes his life before pulling Dean Winchester from Hell.

After shaving he pulls on the clothes Sam left for him. They're Dean's, nothing of Sam's would even come close to fitting Cas. As it was, the old jeans were a bit too long, and the plain black t-shirt fits a bit too loose, but it's clothing, it serves its purpose. He makes his way to Dean's room, knocking on the door.

No answer. He knocks again.

"Fine, come in Cas!" he hears through the door. Cas opens the door, feeling strangely pleased that Dean knows him well enough to realize it's him and not Sam.  Cas knows that Sam wouldn't have bothered Dean at the moment, just because of his anger, but he never really understood why. Dean was sitting on the edge of his bed, left hand wrapped around his right arm over the Mark, eyes staring holes in the wall. "Don't start in on how this is a bad idea, Cas," he growled. Cas ignored the anger in his voice, he could tell that underneath it, Dean was just scared. He could read it in his eyes when they turned to face him, bright green circles of color filled with everything Cas associated with being human.  Still, now when he saw those eyes he would remember seeing them black and emotionless, staring at him with such loathing...

"I won't try to dissuade you, Dean," Cas says, "I just want you to be prepared." He hesitates, "Did you research these specific omens?" He could almost hear Dean's eyes rolling at his concern.

"Cas, just let it go." he sighs. He sounds so vulnerable, so tired in that moment. Castiel just watches him, he wants to offer some form of comfort, some words to make it better. No matter how hard he tries, he can't come up with anything. How could he, he couldn't even put himself back together.

"If I'm right, Dean, if this angel is who I think she is..."

"Wait... she?" Dean really looked at him for the first time. "You really do know who it is?" he asked incredulously. Castiel hated the hope in those green eyes. Mainly because he knew how easily it could get crushed.

"Amitiel," Cas said quietly, almost afraid to even say the name. "The Angel of Truth." Dean just stared at him for a moment.

"'The Angel of Truth?' She makes people tell the truth?" he says, tilting his head at Cas in a way that says 'that's it?' "We've dealt with that before."

"Dean, you don't understand." Cas hangs his head, not wanting to tell Dean, but not wanting him to go into this unprepared either. "Amitiel isn't just an angel, she's an... Arch-Angel." He says it as quietly as possible, almost wishing he hadn't. The green eyes are blank for a moment, before it finally registers what Cas said.

"But I thought... I mean we dealt with them..." Cas can almost see the flashes of memory running through Dean's mind.

"There are more." Cas says quietly. Dean just stares at him in disbelief.

"Then why haven't we heard about them?"

"Does it really surprise you to know that, in spite of our many interactions with heaven, that you don't know everything about it?" Castiel felt the pressure returning behind his eyes. He squeezed them shut, rubbing his forehead.

"Hey, man, I know nothing should surprise me anymore, but an arch-angel?" Cas' brain is getting fuzzy. His grace was weak at that moment, his human needs that had been neglected taking control. He stumbled, dizzy and disoriented.

"I believe I need to sleep," he muttered, feeling his body tilting towards the floor. He expected to hit the floor, but instead a pair of strong arms grabbed hold of him.

"Easy, Cas. I gotcha," Dean said, wrapping Cas' arm around his shoulders and carrying him down to Cas' room. He wanted to say more, to warn Dean, but Cas was too weak. Dean carried him easily, lowering him into bed gently. Cas was asleep before he hit the pillow.

 

 ***

 

Dean wanted to hate the mother hen feeling, but deep down when it came to Cas he didn't mind too much. He pulled the blanket out from under Cas slightly, draping it over his shoulder a bit awkwardly. Even though Dean was angry at Sam for setting him up with Cas, he had to admit he'd be glad for the company. It was strange, seeing Cas without his suit and trench coat, not to mention in Dean's old clothes.  While Jimmy was no tiny thing, he hadn't spent his life hunting monsters and fighting for his life, so Cas' vessel didn't quite fill out Dean's clothes, but they were a close enough fit.  He probably should tell Cas to keep the old clothes, he wasn't making any use of them.  He left the room slowly, not wanting to wake Cas. The angel looked a hot mess and seemed to need the sleep, which wasn't a good sign. He scratched at his arm absently as he left.

So the Angel of Truth... He had been searching for an angel for months, searching the internet on sleepless nights when the Mark wouldn't quiet down, sneaking research in when Sam was out shopping. After stripping off his pants and flannel shirt, he sank back into his own bed, staring at the ceiling. It paid off, all the searching, he got what he wanted, so why was he feeling so anxious? Why when he was finally so close... _so close_... He sighed, draping his left arm across his face.

_An Arch Angel...Really?_ Well when he picks them he picks them. Go figure he would get himself in too deep. He pulled out his phone, perusing the internet for the name Cas had mentioned. _Amitiel,_ he reads, _the Arch Angel of peace, love, truth, understanding, and equality._ Geez, busy much? At least she sounded like a good guy, not a psychopath. Then again, when it came to angels it was all relative. _She is often mistaken for a male angel, being one of only two female Arch Angels._ Well, then. _She's close to her brother, the Arch Angel Gabriel._ Wait- what?! Gabriel?! The dick of an angel who posed as a trickster, made Sam watch Dean die over 100 times, and trapped them in a crazy TV Land, was close to the angel of _truth_? Dean almost laughed out loud at the thought. _While she appreciates free will, she has no tolerance for dishonest behavior, preferring people to see the truth of their experiences and learn from them._ That made Dean uncomfortable. Truth and meditation were never his things. The closest he had come in ages was in that confessional a few months back... He squeezed his eyes shut, putting his phone down, getting worried. Maybe Cas was right, maybe he had bit off a bit too much this time. He clenched and unclenched his right fist slowly, working the muscle under the tight, raised skin. The Mark wasn't angry today, just mildly irritated, and Dean was grateful. He buried his face in his pillow and tried to get some sleep.

 


	2. Roadtrippin'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter!! Not very exciting, but they had to get from point a to point b. Stick with me please!!

Castiel must have been more tired than he thought, because he didn't even dream. He woke late the next day to the smell of food, his stomach making a hollow noise as he stood, running a hand through his sleep mussed hair to try and tame it. Vanity was something he was still getting used to, it was one of the newer human emotions that had been plaguing him recently. He walked out into the kitchen, half expecting Dean to be gone already, in spite of Cas' warnings. He had slept past ten, and Dean usually liked to head out first thing,  Much to his surprise, Dean was the one in the kitchen cooking, the activity appearing to take his mind off the Mark.  He seemed relaxed, almost pleased as he pushed burger patties around a pan.

"About freakin' time sleeping beauty," Dean said as he spotted Cas turning the corner. Dean waved a spatula at the burgers he was cooking. "Hungry?"

"Yes, thank you," Cas said, his voice still heavy with sleep. He cleared his throat and took a seat at the small table in the kitchen. Dean unceremoniously dumped a burger on a plate in front of him, sitting across from him with his own. "I didn't know you cooked," Cas said as he picked up the burger.

"I don't," Dean said through a mouthful of meat and bun, "this is about all you'll ever get. Now shut up and eat." He managed to smirk with his mouth full of food. Cas didn't trust himself to do the same without making a mess, so he just nodded and stared at the table between them. Turns out Dean was _very_ good at cooking burgers, a low moan escaping Cas as he bit into it.  It was one of the best things Cas had ever tasted, his anxiety about the trip overshadowed by the food.  Dean tried to hide a satisfied smile, but Cas saw it anyway.  They finished eating in silence, which Castiel was used to. Dean was never one for sharing, and Cas didn't know how to small talk, so often this was how they found themselves. Sitting in silence. After they finished, Cas let Dean clear his place.

"So since _Samantha_ took off with your clothes to play housekeeper, I packed you a few things for the trip," Dean said.

"Thank you," Cas hadn't thought about the fact that he would need to do human things to get by, like brushing teeth and shaving. He ran a hand absently over his stubble as he and Dean wandered towards the front door to gather their things, leaving the cleaning up for Sam. Cas wanted to protest, but Dean was in a good mood so he let it go.

"Yeah, well it's about 200 degrees in Florida right now, you're not going to wear the same clothes the whole time." Dean wrinkled his nose at the thought. Cas was only half listening as he remembered why they were going in the first place. Would Amitiel be willing to talk to them? Would she even be happy to see Castiel? She still had her grace if it was affecting the town... Something grabbed hold of the food he just ate in his stomach and started twisting. He could feel his heart fluttering, and halfway up the stairs he stumbled. If she was affecting a town just by _being_ there...

"Something's wrong." He finished his thought out loud.  Something was very wrong, and it made him very nervous.

"Did you forget your diary?" Dean said as he turned, full of sarcasm, but as he looked down the stairs at Cas, all jest fell from his face. "Dude, you okay? You look like you're gonna blow chunks." Cas frowned slightly, shaking his head to clear it.

"If Amitiel is affecting people on a large scale, and as often as she is, something must be wrong. She doesn't like to draw attention to herself, and has become rather good at hiding. Consider the fact that Michael and Raphael couldn't find her." Dean shrugged the duffles higher on his shoulders.

"Or maybe she's in trouble, and when we swoop in and save the day she'll be so thankful she'll help us out. C'mon Cas, I'm trying here." Cas examined Dean's face. Behind the forced smile, into his green eyes, there was pain, a kind of pain Cas understood. Dean was trying, valiantly, to fight the Mark, the pain, and... Guilt? Cas felt his brow furrow as his head tilted to consider that. Dean's smile faded into annoyance, and Cas remembered what Dean said about staring.

"You're right, Dean." He said, continuing up the steps and taking his bag from Dean's shoulder. "You are trying." They headed out the door and down to the Impala. Cas tossed his bag in the trunk with Dean's and made his way to the front passenger seat.

"And here we go," Dean sighed as they drove away.

 

***

 

24 hours. Plus at least a few hours break about halfway to sleep somewhere. At least 32 hours alone with Castiel in a car. He glanced over at his copilot, staring out the window with a strangely blank look on his face. Dean didn't quite know what to classify him as anymore, because sometimes he seemed right back to angel status, and then times like now it was like he was human all over again. He remembered that night in the barn, when Cas appeared for the first time, full of rightiousness and power, such a far cry from where he was now. If he had to pick one moment in his life, one time when he knew _everything_ had changed, that would have been it. He was used to the monsters, the evil, the demons. He had never given thought to anything, well, _good_. Good wasn't really in Dean's vocabulary.

Turns out most of the 'good' angels had been dicks anyway, so score one for the 'nothing good' attitude. Not to mention all the times Cas had royally screwed up himself.

But for the briefest moment, before the proverbial shit had hit the fan with the apocalypse, and everything that had steamrolled after, Dean had dared to hope. For the briefest moment, discovering that Angels existed, that God existed... Dean had felt maybe something else was at work. Of course now, after becoming... what he became, he almost couldn't even remember feeling that hope. He glanced over at Cas, found he was looking at Dean and immediately looked back at the road again. _Yup, still creepy when he does that._ Cas had brought that brief moment of hope to Dean, and Dean wondered if that was the reason he was still here now. After everything that happened between them, the Leviathan, purgatory, Cas' humanity... after all of the pain and hardships they had caused each other, there was a small reminder that he, Dean Winchester, had dared to hope. And that bond would be hard to break.

"Why were you seeking an angel, Dean?" Cas asked after they had been driving for a few hours, making Dean jump. "You can always call me if you need questions answered." Dean squirmed a bit in the seat under Cas' scrutiny.

"No offense, Cas, but I kinda wanted an outside opinion on this one." Dean deflected. Cas' head tilted the way it does when he's trying to decide if Dean's lying or not. Dean can feel the heat crawling up his neck and runs his hand through his hair to try and keep it from spreading. "Look, I just have some questions, alright? I just want some information." Cas finally looks away.

"I... understand," he says in a way that tells Dean he really doesn't. Dean feels his right arm getting warm, and he reflexively grips the steering wheel till he can't feel his hand anymore.

After a couple more hours driving in silence they stop for gas and a lunch consisting of food found at said gas station. It's been nearly 8 hours, with hardly two sentences spoken between them since they left. Now here, in the back ass end of Nowhere, USA, they sat in silence eating cheap junk food, and Dean just couldn't take it any longer.

"So this Ami..."

"Amitiel," Cas said.

"Right, so she's an Arch Angel. That means high level mojo."

"She's very powerful, yes."

"So if she doesn't want to be found, why all these signs?" Castiel seemed to ponder that for a moment.

"She could be injured, which would make her even more dangerous, or she could want to be found, which is even worse." He looked over at Dean apologetically. "I wish I had more to tell you, but I've only ever seen her once, centuries ago."

"Are there any others? Arch Angels?"

"There were 9 once, ten if you count Lucifer before his fall."

"Well we know what happened to four of them, five now. What about the others?" Cas hesitated.

"I'm not sure. They may not even be alive any more," he said. It sounded matter of fact, but Dean knew it was anything but. Sam would be much better here than Dean was.  As much as he hated the angels, especially the self-righteous arch angels, they were in a way Cas' family.  He had no idea what to say to that, what to say to make Cas feel better, because he knew he had to be in pain. In spite of all the crap, the angels were Cas' brethren, and he knew he mourned the loss of that connection, whether he missed it or not. Not to mention it was Dean's fault he had started his fall in the first place, and the guilt rose like bile in his throat. So instead of trying to offer comfort, he didn't say anything.

"If you wish to rest, Dean, I would be glad to drive for a while." Cas said after they finished eating. Dean shook his head.

"I'm fine Cas, really." He pulled out a map and checked where they were headed. "I wanna hit Georgia before we call it a night. Another six hours and we'll stop." Cas nodded, and Dean started up the car and drove off.

It only took an hour this time before Castiel broke the silence.

"Sam said you went to confessional, a few months back." Dean felt the flush creep up his neck, squeezing the steering wheel.

"It was for the case, alright? Besides, didn't think there's anything wrong with getting a little crap off my chest." Cas seemed puzzled by his defensiveness, and to be honest, Dean wasn't sure why he cared either.

"I did not mean to intrude. I just wanted to say I'm pleased."

"That I made up a crap confession to catch a ghost?" Cas did that strange head tilt thing, something he never quite stopped even after becoming a human.

"But it wasn't, was it." It was a statement, not a question.

"What, you listening in?" Dean asked, still on the defensive.  Why should he care if Cas knew about going to confessional?  Was it really that big of a deal?  The heat in his cheeks answered his own question.  He had said things in that booth, about his feelings, about wanting more from life, and suddenly he desperately was worried about Cas knowing.

"No, I... I cannot hear prayers as clearly, not anymore. But your soul seems lighter than last I saw you." Cas was looking calmly out the window and it pissed Dean off. How could he be so casual about something so personal? It made Dean feel vulnerable and he didn't like it.

"Peeping in on my soul, Cas? Not very polite." He shifted in the seat, trying to shake off the anger.

"I've touched your soul, Dean, I can always see it." Well if that didn't make him feel naked and uncomfortable nothing would.

"Can we just drop it?" Dean said firmly. Truth was, talking to the priest, finally admitting how he felt about the Mark, it had helped him feel a bit more under control lately. Hell, he even said the penance he had been assigned. He was clinging to anything that gave him even a bit of control over the Mark. It may not be a happy place, but it was better than his worst place.

"So where've you been lately?" Dean asked. "I know Sam's got you out looking for stuff on the Mark, even though I've told him to stop wasting his time." he added. Cas looked over at him.

"We'll figure this out, Dean." Dean couldn't help but smile at that.

"After all this time, Cas, you still have faith, even when I don't." The expression on Cas' face was unreadable, Dean had no idea what he was thinking. "I guess I should thank you for that."

"You're welcome, Dean." Cas smiled at him and turned to face the window again. Dean felt a warmth, deep down, trying to push it's way up into his heart. He wanted to trust in Cas and Sam's faith, to trust in their hope that they would find a cure for this curse, that they could go back to a normal life. Well, normal for the Winchesters. No matter how much he wanted it, though, it was still too hard. He wanted to live, and he would fight tooth and nail to last as long as he could, but he would harbor no illusions. Sam was adamant about finding a way to remove the Mark, and every time Dean caught him sleeping in the common room, head draped over books and files, a small little burst of affection crawled its way in.  Even if they did find a way, like nearly everything with them Dean knew it would come at a price. Whether or not it would be worth paying was yet to be seen. So he did what he always had done, he quenched the warmth and buried it as far down as he could.

 

***

 

The silence that sat between them all the way to Georgia wasn't nearly as heavy as it was when they left the bunker. It was a good sign, Cas knew, that Dean was willing to listen, to be listened too. He remembered the first time Dean had prayed, had convinced himself that having faith in something other than a shotgun would be worth his while. He saw the small spark trying to ignite in his soul, the spark that didn't want to give in to the Mark, the part that wanted to _live,_ and it gave Cas hope. They pulled into the lot of some no-star motel in Georgia, just as Dean was beginning to yawn.

"Ok, you get cozy, I'm going to grab us some food." Dean gave Castiel their duffels after checking in and let him into their room. "There's a burger joint just next door, I won't be long." He shut the door behind him and Castiel stood there for a moment, alone with his thoughts. He tossed Dean's bag onto one of the beds, and his on the other, dropping down next to it. He pondered the mystery that was Dean Winchester. The man too proud to ask anything of anyone, the man who would rather push people away than talk about his feelings, yet sacrifice himself for those same people at the first sign of trouble. Now that same man was seeking out an angel, and keeping his reasons a secret. Cas didn't think it had anything to do with the Mark, Dean had moved past that a while ago, but he couldn't think of anything else he would want answers about. Cas had to admit that Amitiel might know something about the Mark, but would she tell them? Cas was on tentative footing with a lot of the angel community, he didn't know how Amitiel would react to his presence. There was a good chance she would just smite Castiel on sight and not worry about formalities. He was indirectly responsible for what had happened to Gabriel. There was a chance he could get Dean killed, if anything but the first blade could kill him...

He shook his head, trying to clear out thoughts of Dean. It was Amitiel they needed to worry about. He opened his duffel to get out the sweats Dean had packed for his pajamas, and grabbed his toothbrush and headed towards the bathroom. He turned on a shower, stripping out of Dean's old clothes and climbing in. He had it turned up as hot as he could bear, it seemed to help remove the tension from his shoulders. He was still having difficulty regulating his vessel's body, and he found most of his days his muscles would seize up, and a super hot shower did wonders.  As his body relaxed, he closed his eyes and reached inside himself, finding his borrowed grace. It was replenished, as much as it could be. To Cas' relief, this grace didn't fade away as quickly as the first one he... well stole. This grace tended to keep level, as long as he didn't use it too often, he could manage.

By the time he was dressed in his pajamas, Dean was back with their dinner.  Cas sat at the small table as Dean unpacked the food.

"So, I was thinking," he said, dropping a few cheeseburgers next to Cas. "What do you think our best approach should be? Go in guns blazing, or just walk up and say 'hey, mind a chat?'" Cas couldn't help but roll his eyes.

"Dean, we'll be lucky if she doesn't smite us. I don't believe... 'guns blazing' as you put it, would be our best option." The smile faded from Dean's face.

"Well you're a ball of laughs."

"I wasn't trying to be funny." Dean just sighed and dove into his cheese burgers with a gusto. Cas pondered their dilemma as he ate his own, a little calmer. It wasn't like he would be any help if it came to a fight, he wasn't even sure why he was there in the first place. _Because Dean would have come anyway, at least now he won't be alone._ The thought put Cas off the rest of his food. He pushed the bag away, lost in thought.

 

***

 

"You gonna finish that?" Dean asked. Cas shook his head absently. Dean reached over and took it, no sense in letting food go to waste. He noticed the pensive look on Cas' face. "What's on your mind, Cas?" he asked, hoping he wasn't going to get a lecture.

"Where will we even look?" he asked. Dean wiped his hands and handed Cas a notebook.

"I did some research while you were sleeping last night," Dean said. Cas purposefully ignored the unspoken _because I couldn't sleep._ "Turns out the first odd miracle happened six years ago. A chick was diagnosed with an inoperable tumor in her brain, given six months to live. And guess what? Newspaper article a year ago about how she's still alive and kickin', five years to the day. It's subtle, but over the years since then all these little things have been happening, some good, some bad. You know, people in the papers because they came clean about their messy marriage, or a mystery donor coming forward to admit to 15 years of anonymous donations to the local hospital. Businesses admitting that they'd been defrauding customers, a mother and her daughter mysteriously unscathed after being hit by a drunk driver."

"I don't understand, these happened with large lengths of time separating them over the years, why so many all at once now?" Dean shrugged.

"I dunno, Cas, but whatever's going on, it's been going on for a long time." Cas blinked, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Hey, don't think too hard you might hurt something," Dean stood, grabbing the trash and tossing it as he walked to his duffel, gathering his things to get ready for bed. "Look, we'll get an early start tomorrow, the sooner we get there, the sooner we get done." Cas just nodded, but Dean was already walking into the bathroom. Cas crawled into bed, trying to get comfortable. He was impressed, Dean had really taken the time to think this whole thing through. Maybe this wouldn't end badly after all.

When Dean left the bathroom and crawled into his bed, turning the light off, Cas turned over to see him.

"Dean?"

"Hmm?"

"Sam told me what you said, about the Mark. How you're not giving up yet."

"Not now, Cas. Can't we do the heart to heart some other time?"

"I'm not trying to have a... prolonged conversation here. I just wanted to tell you it reminds me of how you used to be, when we first met." Dean was staring at the ceiling, the hard lines etched into his face over the years softened when he thought no one could see. And it was dark enough that if Cas had been anyone else, he wouldn't have, but being an angel, he could just make out the shape of Dean's face in the dark. "It reminds me of the disrespectful human who had the gall to stab an angel with a demon blade." Dean chuckled under his breath.

"I was younger then. I was reckless."

"You hadn't borne the apocalypse on your conscience yet." Cas saw Dean frown.

"Yeah, I suppose there's that too," he sighed, draping his arm over his face.

"But it's different this time." Cas said. "This time you're not expecting to live."

"Enough with the 20 questions, Cas," Dean muttered, turning his back on Castiel. After a while, Cas hears Dean's breathing deepen into sleep. Eventually his own weariness caught up to him and he too fell into a dreamless sleep.

 

"Rise and shine," Dean called. Cas sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. A fast food breakfast was waiting for him on the table, and Dean was already up and packed for the day. Cas ate in silence, trying to remember something he had thought of the night before, something he wanted to tell Dean, but it eluded him. Even after brushing his teeth and getting dressed, he still couldn't remember what he wanted to say.

"You feeling okay?" Dean asked. Cas sighed.

"I am fine, just thinking." He handed his duffel over into Dean's outstretched hand.

"Well, don't do it too hard, looks like you might break something." They left the motel room behind, making their way out to the Impala. "Okay, Baby, final stretch," he said lovingly. He dropped the bags in the trunk and climbed into the driver's seat as Cas climbed into the passenger side.

 

***

 

Dean didn't feel like sitting in silence this time, so he put on some music just to have noise in the car. He caught a glimpse of the Mark under his rolled up sleeve. As they got closer, it seemed to sense Dean's nervousness, pulling at his skin. Dean hated that it was becoming its own entity to him, like an outside force acting on his will because every time he thought of it that way, he was harshly reminded it wasn't. It was inside him. He was the one getting taught with nerves, he was the one itching for a fight, getting angry for no reason. He was the one terrified to sleep at night, terrified to look in the mirror and see black eyes looking back.

True to Dean form, he took all those bundled worries, and pushed them down, covering them up with air drumming and lip syncing as they drove. Cas glanced over at him curiously the first few times, probably wondering if Dean was having a seizure, but eventually he leaned back and fell asleep, leaving Dean alone with his self hate and his music.

"Typical weather," Dean sighed. It was pouring down rain almost the moment they crossed the state line into Florida. Dean hated working cases in Florida, between the heat, the rain, and the bugs, there was no more miserable place to hunt, except maybe the bayou in Louisiana.  It was all humid swamp land and theme parks, and Dean already felt his mood souring.  Cas woke up when the rain started, pinging against the metal roof of the car.

"Are we almost there?" he asked.

"Don't start with the 'are we there yet' crap. We've only got a few more hours." Dean snapped.  Cas nodded, looking out at the weather, apparently not noticing the anger in Dean's voice.

"I enjoy the rain," he said simply. Dean just raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. "I find it soothing, cleansing. It's a new beginning." A bolt of lighting crashed overhead.

"Well, just remember, rain can kill you too." Dean said, immediately wondering to himself why he had to be such a dick.

"Yes, I'll keep that in mind." Cas said simply. Dean took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Sometimes he wondered if Cas really was still that naive, or if he'd just come up with a way of ignoring the sarcasm in Dean's comments to keep from getting offended. His grumpy mood kept getting worse, and he bit his tongue before saying anything overly mean, drawing blood in the process. As they drove farther south, they started passing signs for all the touristy crap Florida was famous for. Dean saw no point to it at all, wasting money to wander around in the miserable weather. Cas, however, seemed fascinated by the billboards.

"What you've never heard of a theme park?" he asked. Cas seemed puzzled.

"The concept is known to me. It's a place where people go to be entertained, correct?"

"Yeah, and spend tons and tons of money for no apparent reason," Dean sighed. "It's probably the best example of people thinking they can buy happiness."

"Have you ever been?" Cas asked. Dean shifted in his seat slightly.

"It's not like we had the time or money when I was a kid, Cas. Even if we did, I think my dad would have hit me over the head just for asking." Cas' face fell slightly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up any... bad memories," he said apologetically.

"Don't worry about it, Cas. I was never really the sit back and have fun type. Though I wish Sam had been able to go. He would have enjoyed it." Dean felt a little bitterness about their lost childhood, not for the first time and not for the last, but it made the Mark start to itch and he immediately tried changing the subject. "So the center of all this angel stuff is a podunk town the middle of nowhere, just past all the tourist crap. Biggest thing in town is the Karaoke bar where the cancer chick performs."

"And you think this is where we'll find Amitiel?"

"Most likely, I mean, people getting drunk and singing their hearts out, doesn't get much more honest than that."

"You have a point, Dean. It does sound like a place she'd be interested in."

"And we'll at least know where one of her miracles will be.  Cancer chick performs at that bar regularly."  The article Dean had read about her five year cancer survival story had mentioned she was a local celebrity, her performance dates were all over the local paper.  If anyone would have information, it would probably be her.

They pulled into a dingy motel a few hours later, and to Dean's delight, it had a working A/C. It was already ridiculously muggy, and Dean could feel the sweat on his back from the Impala's seats. The room smelled like mildew, and the bathroom could use some bleach, but it wasn't the worst Florida motel he had seen, and he was grateful for that.  He stripped off his flannel, dropping it on the bed, standing in front of the A/C for a few moments.

"Man, I feel naked," he complained, grabbing the list of phone numbers on the bedside table to check for pizza delivery. He loved Baby, but they had done so much driving in such awkward silence, he wanted to give her a break.

"You're fully clothed, so why do you feel naked?" Cas asked. Dean gestured at the flannel shirt on the bed. Cas' brow furrowed. "I don't understand, what about it?"

"Flannel's good for deflecting attacks and for absorbing blood, and makes me look cool. And its too damn hot to wear it." Cas nodded.

"So it's like no longer having your armor on," he said. Dean shrugged.

"Kinda, I guess." Also, the Mark was in full view without his longer sleeves to cover it, and it made Dean feel exposed.

"In that sense, I do have a fondness for my coat." Cas glanced at the Mark briefly, but turned away, and closed his eyes.  For a brief moment Dean wasn't sure if the Mark worried or disgusted Castiel, and he wasn't sure which was worse.  After Dean called and ordered them some food, a strange distant look passed over Cas' face, like he was concentrating on something and it refused to come to him. "Hey, Cas, what's up?" Dean asked, picking up on his tension.

"I'm trying to locate Amitiel," he said, sighing, "But I'm either too weak, or she's too strong. I can tell there's something here, but I can't figure out what." His face fell in the way it did when he felt useless.

"Nothing on the angel radio?" Cas shook his head.

"No, it's almost like her presence is too big for the town, it covers the whole thing." Dean cleared his throat, pulling a bottle of whiskey out of his duffle. He had a feeling he was going to need it.

 


	3. Shall We Dance?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a bar fight. Not too graphic.

They waited for the sun to go down before heading over to the mysterious Karaoke Bar. It didn't even have a name, Dean mused as he parked the Impala.  The glowing yellow sign simply said "Karaoke. Bar."  As they walked up, Dean found he was more nervous than he would have thought, and hoped he was hiding it well enough so Cas wouldn't ask him what was wrong.  He had enough to deal with, a nosy wing man wouldn't be helpful.  

"Wing man, huh," Dean chuckled at his own bad pun, rolling his eyes at himself.  Now he knew he was nervous.

"Did you say something?" Castiel asked, walking up beside him.  Dean shook his head.

"Nothing."  Cas tilted his head oddly but didn't say anything.  Dean missed the suit and trench coat look, because even with Cas as weak as he was, in Dean's clothes he just looked like any other guy, not an angel of the lord, and sometimes in the coat Castiel at least looked a bit more intimidating.  A bluff was as good as anything when stuck in a bad situation.

"So, we just walk in, hope she's there, hope you can spot her, and hope there's no other monsters here to get us?"  Dean checked off the list on his fingers as they got to the door.

"And hope that Amitiel doesn't smite us on sight." Cas added, totally dead pan.  Dean shook his head.

"Great," he groaned, "foolproof."  The bouncer at the door check their ID's, Dean glad he had one made for Cas a while ago.

"It's no different than many of your other plans." Cas said matter of factly as they stepped through the door. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Never said they were any good either." They made their way inside through a short hallway, and whatever this place was, it wasn't what Dean was expecting. He had been in bars, and in Karaoke bars, in small towns like this. They were generally all the same, dingy, messy places with the blood from the last bar fight still staining the floor. This place was something else entirely. At the moment some of that electronic dance music was playing, nothing that Dean would ever willingly listen to, but not as bad as some of the house music he'd sat through while fishing for women.  A large dance floor in the center of the room was giving the place a night club feel. There was a stage in the far back of the room, booths crowded in front of it, and a bar running along the entire right side of the building. It felt upscale and classy, and Dean immediately felt uncomfortable. In places like this there were a lot of lights, and not enough dark corners, and he felt naked suddenly. They stood there near the entrance for a moment, just watching the crowd.

"Anything?" Dean asked hopefully.

"No," Cas said, his eyes scanning the crowd but the frustration evident on his face.  Dean swallowed his sarcastic quip and gave Cas a friendly pat on the shoulder.

"Don't worry about it. C'mon, if we're going to be here for a while I need something to drown out this music."  Dean pulled them off to the side towards the bar but Cas stepped in the opposite direction.

"I'm going to look around some more, I'll be back," he turned and walked away, towards the far wall.  Dean sighed, feeling sorry for his friend.  He felt useless without grace, and Dean knew he waned to appear like he was needed.  Dean wondered about him for a moment more before shaking himself out of his 'mother hen' head space and turning his attention to the shelves of booze on the wall. Three bartenders, all young attractive men, were serving at the building length bar in sections. He'd take a road side hole in the wall any day, he decided as he found a stool, fancy spots like this place gave him the creeps. The bar was lit from underneath, giving the patrons a strange blue tint to their faces, and along with the racks of liquor behind the bar, there were also racks of bottles and cups along the bar at intervals.  It was all too clean and crisp, and it felt too hipster for Dean.  He must be getting old.  He swallowed down his discomfort and grabbed the bar tender's attention.

"One beer, and a double whiskey," he told the bartender once he was within earshot.

“Want me to start a tab?" He asked.

"Won't be here long," Dean said, passing him some cash. _Hopefully._

"Too bad," he said with a wink, leaving the drinks and walking away to serve more customers, a sway to his hips.  Dean blinked for a moment.

"That was a flirtation," came Cas' voice from right behind his shoulder, making him jump.  

"Jesus, Cas," he muttered, turning to hand Cas the beer.  He had been hit on by guys before, and he didn't really mind, but this time Cas was there, head tilted curiously, and it became a bit more embarrassing.

"I believe he's attracted to you, Dean," Cas said, in his annoyingly ignorant, yet endearing Cas way.

"No shit, Sherlock." Dean said, sipping his whiskey.  Cas frowned at his reference but to his credit Cas didn't say anything else about the bartender, he just gave Dean a curious look and continued scanning the crowd.

“So, you boys are new,” the bartender said when he walked back.

"Passing through, gotta sleep sometime, right?" he gave him a smile.

“You going to be here for the show tomorrow?” Dean glanced at Cas quickly then back at the bartender.

“What show?”

“Our little celebrity,” he said, handing Dean a flyer about the cancer girl, Kate, whom Dean recognized from the newspaper article. “She's in here a few times a week, and she's made quite a name for herself.”

“What's so special about her?” Dean asked, expertly keeping up the mildly interested vibe without seeming overly eager.  He leaned into the bar, pulling his shirt tight against his arms, giving the barkeep a little show to keep him talking.  Cas just hovered over his shoulder, frowning slightly, pulling an odd look from the barkeep, but thankfully Dean kept most of his attention.  Dean wished there was a subtle way to tell Cas to relax and not seem so awkward, it was hard enough for him to half flirt to keep the barkeep attentive, but Dean knew from experience it was best to just let Cas be, it would take too long to explain to him.  The bartender had continued talking while Dean mused about Cas, and he dragged himself back to the conversation.

“People drop their names in a bucket, she picks a handful, then without asking them _anything,_ I mean, not a damn thing, she sings just the song they wanted to hear.  Spot on the exact words they needed.  Get testimonials about it all the time.”  He explained, stepping away to serve a few more drinks before returning. 

“And these people,” Dean gestures vaguely, trying to ignore the awkward statue that was Cas standing behind him and failing, so he grabbed Cas' arm and pulled him onto the stool next to his, “anything else happen after their name gets picked?” The bartender gave him and Cas a curious look before his eyes lit up with an epiphany.

“Actually, now that you mention it,” he pulled a newspaper from behind the bar, setting it down in front of Dean. “All three of the people who she picked the other night wound up in the paper.” Dean perused the articles he pointed at, Cas hovering over his shoulder to read also, though he was a bit too close for Dean's liking.  The newspaper was full of more of the same stories that brought them there in the first place. Dean sighed, thanking the bartender and standing up to go.

“We're leaving?” Cas asked, obviously shocked.  "But what about..."  Dean downed his remaining whiskey and sighed before he waved the paper flyer at Cas.

“Got a lead. We'll come back tomorrow.” he said, starting to walk towards the door. A Karaoke singer with an intuitive ability to read people sounded too good to be true, he wanted to see this Kate for himself.  She was probably the best lead they were going to find, if an angel had indeed cured her cancer.  That was going to be an interesting conversation.   _Hey, glad you're cancer free.  Did an angel of the Lord appear to you?_  He managed to make it a few steps before Cas gripped his arm tightly.  "Cas, let's go."

“Oh, stick around for a while Dean,” said a woman's voice behind him, “we've only just arrived.” _Shit,_ that's never good, when a strange woman knows his name. He turned slowly, to find an attractive brunette flanked by two equally unattractive burly men. He felt Cas tense up next to him, and immediately grew wary.  Cas was reaching for the angel blade tucked into his pants, and Dean put a hand out to stop him, there were still quite a few people in the bar, they didn't need all that attention... or collateral damage.  Still his hand hovered close to his own blade.

“Well, you seem to know me but I'm afraid I haven't had the pleasure.” He clenched his right fist, trying to keep calm.  The instant the adrenaline hit his system the Mark woke up.

“I know, and its such a shame,” she said, running a hand down his arm. “But everyone knows about you,” she shot a look at Cas, “and your boy toy.” Dean clenched his jaw, willing himself not to swing at anyone.

“How did you find us?” Cas asked. Dean risked a glance over his shoulder. Cas was looking at them in recognition.

“We didn't find you, we found her,” she purred, pulling one of Kate's flyers off the wall. “And we don't feel like sharing with a fallen angel and his pet.” The two uglies tensed under their jackets, and Dean felt the tension rising in his gut. He wasn't scared, the Mark saw to that, but it didn't mean he wanted a fight. He wasn't even worried about if he could take all three of them, but he was worried about Cas, who was in no fit state to make it through a fight with one person, let alone three and a volatile Dean.

“Who are these jokers Cas?” he asked.

“They're angels, Dean.” Cas said simply. Dean sighed, he should have figured he wouldn't be the only one looking for Amitiel.

“We don't want to be down here walking around in meat suits any more than you want us here,” the woman said, walking around the two of them, her attitude switching from seductive to bitter. “We aren't _supposed_ to be down here. We were in charge of maintenance, we kept things in heaven organized. We couldn't have cared _less_ about their wars.” She sneered at Cas. “And then we were forced out. So we hid, a handful of us, and kept our heads down, figuring whoever came out on top, we'd get back up to heaven and do our jobs.”

“I never meant-” Cas began, but was cut off when she slapped him across the face.  Dean tensed, but Cas just stood there like he deserved it, and Dean realized he thought he did deserve it, and his anger started to rise.

“Don't.” she hissed, “Don't even bother trying to apologize. Because a few months ago you were trying to hunt us all down, so don't.” She walked back around to stand in front of Dean. He was itching for it now, he could feel the heat burning up his arm, up into his chest.

“Can you get to the point?” he snapped. They stood there in silence for a moment. Wait... _silence._ He looked around. The bar had emptied, the music shut off. _When did that happen?_ It was looking more and more like a fight, and he hated that he was getting excited about it.  No, the Mark wanted it, not him, he had to remind himself of that.

“The point,” she said, smiling in a not too pleasant way. “Alright then.” She raised her hand, and Dean braced for whatever she had coming but instead he felt movement behind him, followed by a crash. Cas had been flung across the room onto the bar, sending cups and bottles flying from one of the racks along it's length. He landed on his back with a groan. "Poor Castiel, your grace isn't doing to good right now, is it?  Well, not _your_ grace to begin with, is it?"  Dean went to grab the angel blade he had tucked into his belt but he couldn't move. No matter how hard he struggled he was frozen in place. She winked at Dean and walked over to the bar. The remaining bottles and cups Cas hadn't shattered started popping, glass flying everywhere. Dean couldn't move as the shards flew towards him, some slicing into his side and arm through his tee shirt. The blood that started to drip down his arm kicked the mark into high gear.

“Hey, psycho bitch! Why don't you pick on someone who can fight back!” Dean could feel his blood rising, almost like a red haze was creeping up around his vision. His muscles were stretched to the breaking point, pushing at the invisible force holding him in place. He took a bit of satisfaction out of seeing the two uglies seemingly straining as hard as he was, and he figured they were the two holding him in place.

“Why, I believe you're pet's getting angry, Castiel,” she cooed. “I can't imagine why.”  Cas looked over at Dean with something like an apology in his eyes, and Dean watched helplessly as she reached out and grabbed Castiel by the neck of his shirt and dragged him across the glass covered bar.  Castiel screamed as glass crunched under him, and Dean could only imagine what it was doing to his damaged grace just to keep himself together.

“To bad you're scared to face me,” Dean snapped. “I'd give you a real fight.” The Mark blazed on his arm, and his hand inched ever so slowly to the angel blade pushing through the invisible force.

“Enough,” came a calm voice from across the room. The brunette dropped Cas in a heap on the floor, a trail of blood along the counter where she dragged him.

“Amitiel,” she breathed, suddenly sounding terrified. Dean turned his head and saw the girl from the flyer, Kate, but instinct told him no, it wasn't a human. She had no emotion on her face and her posture was too tall.  She took in the whole scene for a moment, then calmly walked over to where the brunette was standing among the shattered glass.

“Sarah, why are you doing this?” she asked quietly. She sounded curious more than angry, but still Sarah staggered back a step.

“I'm sorry, I just... I got angry,” she said. “But Amitiel, please,”

“You want my help,” she said, still quiet and unaffected.

“Yes, we... we're tired of being stuck here, in the midst of all this. We just want our old lives back,” Sarah was crying. “Please, we just want to go home.”

“Go home?” Kate, no Amitiel asked, considering the scene around her. She spared a glance at Dean, then down to Castiel, and back to Sarah. “Your home doesn't exist anymore,” she said simply. “The heaven you knew is gone. I can send you back there, but you may not be happy with what you find.”

“Please, we've tried, they won't let us back. But with your help...” Amitiel smiled, and Dean saw no warmth in it.  He braced himself for what he knew was coming next.

“Home sweet home,” she breathed, raising a hand as her eyes started to glow white. Dean barely managed to close his eyes in time against the light from all three angels as they died in three small explosions, the high pitched ringing Dean recognized as angel speak boring into his skull. As the light and noise faded, he heard three bodies slump to the floor, and as he slowly opened his eyes, he saw the black outlines of three sets of wings surrounding him. He felt the release of their hold on him and immediately started walking towards Amitiel where she stood over Cas.

“Dean, wait,” Cas groaned, holding out his hand. Dean frowned, not understanding. He looked at Amitiel, her eyes still glowing with wrath and hesitated, not because he was worried about himself, but Cas was helpless at this point.

“Dean Winchester."  She looked at him and immediately, Dean felt completely naked, like she wasn't just looking at him but through him.  She turned her gaze to Castiel.  "Castiel."  After a moment, she seemed to shrink down, closer to resembling a person.  "You boys walked into something you have no part of. I'm sorry for that,” she said softly.

“How about a hand then?” Dean snapped, gesturing at his bleeding friend. The red haze hadn't quite faded yet, and he was still itching for a fight. She tilted her head, and Dean felt the same naked feeling, a shiver running down his spine.  After a few moments, she sighed.

“I don't think there's cause for bad manners here, is there?” she asked quietly. Dean felt both sets of eyes on him now, hers and Cas'. The flush that crept unwillingly up his neck adding to his anger.

“Yeah, well, I'm not exactly in the mood for a pow wow at the moment, kinda pissed off.”  Dean could still feel the Mark burning in anger. He wanted to calm down but it was so hard anymore, so difficult to let it go without fighting it out first. She considered him for a moment longer, then waved her hand. The glass all over the bar repaired itself and the three bodies disappeared. It was like nothing had happened, except that Cas was still sitting bloodied on the floor. She looked at Cas, kneeling in front of him.

 

***

 

Cas looked up into the crystal blue eyes, trying to ignore the pain in his back. Every movement he made he could feel the shards digging into his skin.

“I've been here a long time,” she said, considering the wounded angel in front of her.  “Longer than you even, Castiel. I've been in a vessel for centuries, longer than any other angel, no thanks to my brothers.” She glanced over at Dean, “I believe you met them.”

“Can't say they were the best company,” Dean muttered. Cas could hear the anger bubbling in Dean, and he knew the Mark must be pressuring him right now. He hated being weak at that moment, hated that he wasn't any help to Dean.  She could changer her mind and smite Dean then and there and there would be nothing he could do but sit and watch.  He felt the burn of anger in his gut, but anger at himself, and it festered there as she kept talking.

“Gabriel wasn't bad. He at least understood me, understood why I wanted to stay here.” She looked around at the bar, smiling slightly. “Humans can be so amazing, when they try. So full of hope and life... but you know that, don't you Castiel. I mean, you gave up everything for... _them_.” The way she said that, the emphasis she put on the last word made Castiel pause.  He felt Dean's eyes on him, distracting him.

“I've grown to appreciate humans, especially after living as one of them,” he said carefully.

“Oh, Castiel, you know you can't lie to me.” She traced a finger down his jaw. Cas opened his mouth to respond but Dean cut him off.

“Listen, lady,” Dean started in, but only made it a few steps before stopping suddenly.

“Dean, it's okay,” Cas grunted. He needed to get him calmed down. Dean gave him a look that said it was anything but okay, but clenched his jaw and didn't say anything. In spite of the pain, Cas pulled himself up onto his feet. She raised an eyebrow at Cas.

“Well then, half an angel but all attitude.” she said quietly, smiling at Cas. He could hear the condescending tone in her voice but ignored it.

“Why now?” he asked. “Why after hiding for all this time were we suddenly able to find you?” Cas noticed her smile falter slightly.

“It's my vessel,” she said simply. “I've had many over the years, but this one... she was an orphan, no family, making her way on her own. Then she was diagnosed with cancer, given six months. I heard her praying, and it was so honest, so beautiful...” Her eyes closed, and Cas knew the feeling. When Dean prayed, it was usually just because he needed Cas for something specific, then and now. But there were times, when Cas didn't even think Dean was aware he was doing it, when he would hear himself being called for, and it was the one thing Cas missed most. As if she heard Cas thinking, she opened her eyes and smiled at him. “She didn't want to die alone. So I came.” She opened her arms. "We spent the last six years together, living her life."

“But she didn't really, did she? It was you in her meat suit,” Dean said angrily. He had made it a few steps closer to Cas, but wasn't close enough to do anything, either go after Amitiel or help Cas. Cas knew things wouldn't end well if Dean made it the rest of the way. He tried to tell Dean to back off with a look, but he wasn't sure Dean was paying attention.

“I sat in the backseat, tiger."  She frowned at Dean, as if she was offended he would think that of her.  "She drove the vessel, I just stayed to help.  Surely you would understand that."  Dean flushed and Cas knew she was talking about Gadreel.  "As much as you may hate angels, not all of us are dicks.” Cas sighed, this was going so well. “I let her live her life, the way she wanted, I just kept her alive. Kept her from being alone.” She tapped Cas' chin. “Surely _you_ know how that feels. I stayed with her, until she was ready. And then she died, a few months ago.” Her eyes became sad. “I should have moved on. I had sat in the background for so long, I'd lost some control over myself. When I saw what was happening, I knew it would draw people to me.”

“Then why stay?” Cas asked. She met his eyes, ice blue meeting deep blue.

“I had nowhere else to go,” she breathed. “And I wasn't ready to let _her_ go,” Cas looked away, but in doing so met Dean's gaze. As he looked into Dean's eyes, he started to see the parallels between their lives. How each of them had become so attached to the human in their charge. "After centuries, all it took was one human," she said softly.

“I'm sorry,” Cas said, looking down and swallowing the lump in his throat. He heard Dean scoff.

"You're buying this Cas?" he asked disbelievingly.

"Dean, Amitiel abhors dishonest behavior. You may not believe it but she does _not_ lie." Cas felt Amitiel's eyes on his back but kept his gaze on Dean. The hunter seemed to have accepted what Cas said, and kept quiet.

“Well, Dean, guess I'm not going to change your mind about angels,” she said. Walking over to him, she grabbed his right arm. Cas went to move closer but felt his blood soaked tee shirt rub against his skin, and he froze in pain. He watched the fury on Dean's face slowly fade, and felt the surprise register on his own face.

“How'd you...” his eyes widened in disbelief and Cas watched the anger fade from him, his muscles relaxing, the tension leaving his shoulders.

“I'm the angel of peace and truth, Dean.” She looked at him for a moment, then down to examine the Mark, her fingers tracing it across his skin. "I know what this is, what it's for, what it can do.  And even if you choose not to believe me, I commend you for making it this long.  It shows strength beyond that of most men."  She searched Dean's gaze for a moment. “You didn't come here for this though,” she said softly. Cas' head came up sharply.  What _did_ he need to know so badly?  Cas had been puzzling about that the whole trip here.  Dean pulled his arm back.

“Yeah, well,” Dean glanced at Cas, and seemed embarrassed that he was there.

“Oh... interesting,” she said softly, looking from Dean to Cas. “Very interesting.” She was grinning, and that made Cas more nervous than he had been so far. She walked back to Cas, leaning in close and meeting his gaze. “I don't even think you know yet,” she breathed.

“Know what?” Dean asked. She just smiled at Cas.

“Yeah, Castiel, know what?” Cas felt her slip inside his mind, guiding his thoughts in a specific direction, and he couldn't stop her. She pulled up his memories of Dean, from the first time they met through now. But why? What lie was Cas telling himself that had to do with Dean?

“Cas?” Dean asked. Cas met his gaze, those green eyes filled with concern. Everything they had been through was so fresh again, the apocalypse, purgatory, his humanity... All those thoughts bubbled so close to the surface again like they had just happened yesterday. All the pain and the guilt cutting into his chest like he was feeling it for the first time, and all at once. He looked away, unable to face Dean.

“I.. I don't know...” He had a feeling he should know, and at the same time didn't want to know, but the fact that it had to do with Dean made Cas' chest so tight he was having trouble breathing.

“Well that's no fun, is it?” She ran a hand over Cas' cheek. “Tell you what, you boys come see the show tomorrow. By then you'll have figured out enough to make it worth my while.”

“What, this is just a game to you?” Dean asked. She shook her head.

“It's not a game, Dean, it's my job. I help people see what they don't want to see, so they can find peace in their lives.”

“I don't know how all the crap happening to people is helping them find peace.”

“Have you talked to them?” she asked. Dean opened his mouth to reply and found he had nothing to say. “Exactly. Not everyone can just walk around with all that guilt and pain on their shoulders, like you.” Cas winced. Dean never took it well when confronted with the truth, it was one of the things Cas had learned the hard way. He was also learning what happens when you bleed too much.  The bar started to spin and he felt his knees buckle.  He hit the ground, the jolt bringing out a cry of pain. Dean ran to his side, draping Cas' arm across his shoulders and lifting hims slowly. Cas gritted his teeth but was unable to muffle the cry that escaped his throat.

“Dammit, Cas,” Dean muttered. She walked up to them.

“See you tomorrow, boys. Once we get all this out in the open.” She reached out and touched them, and they were suddenly standing in front of their motel.

 


	4. Pick Up The Pieces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're just about halfway there!! Thanks to everyone who's read this so far!!

"Son of a bitch," Dean muttered, looking around the motel parking lot.  Much to his surprise, the Impala was parked just in front of their room.  Amitiel must have sent it back when she sent them back.  Cas groaned and Dean was pulled back to his current problem.

Dean kept his mouth shut firmly as he half carried Castiel back into their room. He was afraid what might come out if he said anything. It was clear Castiel felt some connection with her, and empathized with her, but Dean couldn't help himself. After all the times he'd been screwed by angels, he wasn't ready to give one the benefit of the doubt. Not to mention the way she looked at him, as if she was reading him like a book... Cas had been right, he wasn't going to like what Amitiel had to say, not one bit. At least she had quieted the Mark some, gave him a chance to collect his thoughts.  He felt goosebumps run down his arms again at the memory of her touch.  One second he was thrumming with tension and anger, and suddenly it was like her fingers absorbed it all, pulling it from him.

He sat Castiel down on one of the beds and closed the door. He set duffel on the table, but before he could do any unpacking, a small cry of pain came from behind him. Dean turned back to see what was wrong and saw how bad the damage to Cas' back really was. Blood was still slowly flowing from a few of the deep cuts running from shoulder to waist, and when Cas moved his arms Dean could see the gashes expanding as the bones shifted beneath the skin. He wasn't able to heal himself, Dean realized.

"Cas?"

"I'm," Castiel sighed, gripping the edge of his bed white knuckled. "I'm not strong enough." His jaw was set, but Dean recognized the pain on his face. And not just the physical pain.  Cas was ashamed at being so useless.  Dean again had no idea how to comfort him, so he settled for patching him up.

"Let me help," he said quietly, retrieving his medical bag. He had stitched himself and Sam up on a million different occasions, this wouldn't be hard. But what would be hard is being this close to Castiel, remembering the look on his face in the bar when Amitiel had played around in Cas' head. He wanted to ask what she had shown him, but the terrified look when he met Dean's gaze... Dean shook his head, trying to clear it. He needed to fix Cas first, then he could worry about that.

The shirt was a loss, so Dean gently cut it off, peeling the blood soaked fabric gently from Cas' back, trying to ignore the hiss that escaped his friend. The pants were black so at least they weren't ruined, just filthy. There was too much blood and glass covering Cas' back for Dean to tell the deeper gashes from the superficial cuts, he would have to get some of it cleaned off first.

"C'mere, Cas." Dean grabbed a pair of tweezers and helped Cas up, leading him into the bathroom, small gasps escaping him involuntarily. "Can you, um..." he gestured at the pants. Without a hint of embarrassment, Cas undid his belt and let them fall to the floor, bits of glass tingling as they landed. Dean sat him on the edge of the bathtub, sitting sideways so he could face him, trying to ignore the fact that all Cas was wearing was boxers.  

"I'm sorry I wasn't much help back there," Cas said. Dean set his jaw as he got the hot water running.

"Cas, I don't expect you to be all superhero. You're not... whole." He finished, lamely. Wishing he was better with words than he was, wishing he could find some way of expressing how broken the both of them were. He squeezed a full washcloth of water at the base of Cas' neck, and as the water ran down his back Cas whimpered. A soft, weak, human whimper. Dean repeated the process a few times till most of the blood was gone.

"Brace yourself," Dean said, and Cas pushed his right arm against the wall, the other gripping the side of the bathtub next to Dean.

The first few pieces of glass weren't too bad, they hadn't been buried that deep. But as the pieces got bigger, it got harder and harder to listen to Cas' cries. Dean had one piece left, a large chunk buried halfway to his shoulder blade.

"Okay, Cas, last one," he said. Cas had gone pale, sweat shining on his forehead and chest. Dean wasn't sure how he had even managed to keep it together the whole time.

"I'm ready," Cas said, his voice hoarse. Dean sighed, grabbing the glass firmly with the tweezers.

"Okay Cas. One. Two." And he pulled. Cas half gasped, half screamed, and his left arm reached out and grabbed Dean's knee as his body spasmed in pain. Dean put a hand on Cas' shoulder to steady him, letting the pain recede before picking up the wash cloth to clean the new flowing blood.

"I'm okay," Cas breathed, releasing Dean's knee. His now bruised knee but Dean didn't care. He was the one who had gotten Cas in this mess anyway.

"One last step," Dean sighed, picking up the bottle of hydrogen peroxide out of his kit. Cas stared at the bottle for a moment, then nodded. Dean handed him a small wooden rod out of his kit that he kept for just this reason. "You don't wanna bite your tongue off," he said when Cas looked confused. Cas took the stick, biting down on it and nodding at Dean. Without hesitating, Dean poured the whole bottle over Cas' back.

It was a credit to Cas that he didn't pass out. But he screamed, the stick not muffling the noise nearly enough. Cas reflexively twisted his back away from Dean, turning his front towards him, but the deed had already been done. So instead, he fell forward, his head coming to rest on Dean's shoulder as he waited for the pain to pass. Dean just let him, feeling bad enough as it was, he didn't want to push his friend away, no matter how awkward he felt.  After a few deep breaths, Cas recovered enough to sit up.

"Thank you, Dean," Cas said softly. Dean wanted to ask what for, wanted to tell Cas it was his fault in the first place, but instead he swallowed the guilt and just nodded as he stood to get the bandages. Cas turned again so he was facing the wall of the bathtub, as Dean kneeled behind him on the floor, stitching up the deepest cuts then covering them in gauze and tape. When he finished the wound on Cas' shoulder, the shadow shifted and suddenly, he saw it. There in the shape of the muscle over his shoulder, something he had never seen on any other person before. Cas must have noticed his hesitation.

"You can see it," Cas said softly.

"What is it?" Dean asked, afraid and yet fascinated at the same time.

"It's where my... my wings... used to be." Cas said, turning to look over his shoulder. Cas voice was unsteady, and Dean realized it wasn't just from the pain. He didn't think about how strange or awkward it was, he impulsively ran his fingers along the small indentations. They weren't too large, almost the size of Dean's hand. The shape was unmistakable, two tiny, identical, wing shaped marks.

"I didn't think... I mean... " Dean took a deep breath, suddenly embarrassed. "I guess I always just thought of them as 'metaphorical' wings." Cas shuddered under his touch and Dean pulled away quickly, a small flush running up his cheeks.

"In my vessel you wouldn't be able to see them, only in my true form are they visible." Cas sighed. "However, when my grace was ripped from me, it left it's mark." Dean busied himself packing up his things, suddenly in a hurry to get away from this situation.

"Well, you're all patched up, just remember to sleep on your stomach." He left the bathroom, trying to leave his guilt behind. As he washed his hands in the sink near the kitchenette, washed Cas' blood off them, he realized he may never get them clean.

 

***

 

Cas stayed where he was on the bathtub for a moment. He hadn't thought about his wings in so long, their breadth, the feel of their softness, the way the gray feathers would shine in the light. In that moment he suddenly missed them more than he ever had. Right after losing his grace so much had happened, and then he was struggling just to make it as a human. He had never taken the time to realize he might never see them again. Tears began to fall down his cheeks, and Cas let them flow. He had never truly mourned his old life, never taken the time to miss it. But after having his life played out on fast forward in the bar, the emotional release felt good, cleansing.

He heard Dean's voice from outside the bathroom but was so lost in thought he didn't really understand the words. He started to think about the feel of Dean's hands against his back, gentle as he cleaned his wounds, more gentle than he thought the hunter had it in him to be. Then he remembered the caress against the hollow spots on his shoulders. It gave him another chill.

He stopped crying, almost stopped breathing. It wasn't just the angel inside him that had enjoyed the touch, but his human body. It craved that closeness, to be touched by another. He had experienced lust in the past, but this was different, something else mingled with the desire, something... He stood to go, and immediately got dizzy, almost toppling backwards over the tub. He steadied himself and climbed out, careful not to step on his glass covered pants, holding himself up against the counter as he tried to puzzle out what he was feeling. Because he was sure he hadn't felt it before.

The dull pain in his back faded as the tightness in his chest took hold.

He _knew._

Somehow, suddenly, he knew what that feeling was, what Amitiel had been trying to show him, and it exhilarated him and terrified him at the same time.

He looked at himself in the mirror. He never considered that the love he bore Dean may not be just a protector to his charge, or a brother. He had never imagined it would be anything else and yet, as his pulse quickened and his breathing grew shallow, he realized he had been wrong.  Maybe it had been his time as a human, maybe it was just being in a vessel for so long... 

His feelings had changed.

 _He_ had changed.

It was in that moment that he truly saw his vessel as another human would. Just a man, with blue eyes and messy brown hair. Covered in bruises and wounds, weak, vulnerable. But a man. And suddenly he was very aware of it.  Because if this was what he was really feeling...

Gender wasn't something an angel had to worry about. They existed beyond it in their true form, and could take a man or a woman as a vessel. But humans clung to such constructs. Dean, being a man, desired a woman for a partner, and Castiel felt the emotion in his chest deflate just as quickly as it had arisen. Even if these feelings were more than they were, even if Cas wanted to admit that he had grown to care for Dean that deeply, Dean would never understand. He would never see Cas the way Cas could see him.

And just like that he was crying again. He silently stood there, letting the tears fall without even trying to stop them, watching as they fell from his face to hit the counter. He reached back and touched his shoulder in spite of the pain as the bandages pulled at his skin, trying to forget Dean's touch, trying to forget how much it hurt to be human.

 

***

 

After changing out of his clothes into a clean shirt and sweats, Dean had cleaned up the cuts on his arm from the flying glass. Nothing near as serious as Cas' injuries, but just as annoying.

"This is why we wear flannel," he mumbled to himself. If only it wasn't so damn hot here, he and Cas might not have even needed this much patching up. He sighed, rubbing at his right arm absently as he glanced across the room. Cas was still in the bathroom, and was showing no signs of coming out. Standing, he walked over with Cas' things, knocking softly.

"Cas?" Nothing. "Hey, you're bag is out here, right by the door. Thought you might want to change." He thought he heard movement, but still no response. As he turned to walk away, he did hear something. A small sob, only half stifled. Dean froze, halfway between opening the door and walking away. Cas was crying? Was it his injuries or something else? He placed his hand on the doorknob, about to go in and see if he was alright, but then he remembered the feeling of Cas' shoulders under his hands, the way he had shuddered underneath Dean's touch... Dean squirmed in his skin, trying not to think about it. He called to Cas that he was going to bed. Still no response. He sighed, turned off the light and crawled into bed, willing his mind to turn off.

After a while, Dean heard the bathroom door open, a small amount of light shining against Dean's eyelids. He heard the sound of the duffel being unzipped, of fabric moving as Cas slipped into his own sweat pants. Dean wanted to say something, ask if he was alright, but couldn't bring himself to get it out. He heard the sound of a toothbrush being run over teeth quickly, and after the light turned off, he cracked an eyelid slightly. He could barely make out the shape of Castiel crawling into bed, dropping down on his stomach with a small gasp of pain. In the silence that followed, Dean thought he heard him sniffing.

Was he _still_ crying? Dean reflected that Sam, being all Dr. Feelings would have asked Cas about it, comforted him, maybe offered him a drink. However Dean, the coward that he was, just rolled over, squeezing his eyes shut tight, trying to forget Cas shaking under his touch. Trying to keep from thinking about what Amitiel had said before she left.

 

Dean knew he was dreaming as he walked along the lakefront. It was the same one across from the Karaoke Bar the night before, only now it was filled with children playing and laughing, and families picnicking. The weather was too nice, for starters, and the feeling he was being watched was overwhelming.

"Hello, Dean," he heard Kate, or Amitiel's voice behind him.

"It's not enough to lecture me in person, you gotta invade my head too?"

"I feel like you required a more... subtle... approach than Castiel did." He thought about the glass sticking out of Cas' back and started to get angry again.

"Thanks for all your help, by the way," he snapped.

"I'm not here to play games with you." she snapped back. He swallowed his sarcastic remark. "Thank you." She walked up next to him as he paused to watch two brothers playing with water guns. To anyone else it might have been amusing, cute even, but Dean carried too much baggage to see it that way.  His mind flashed back to watching his Dad teaching Sam how to field clean his gun.  They grew up too fast, Sam should have been playing ball, not being drilled like a soldier.  "You realize, Dean, that you are one of my top offenders."  She continued.

"How so?"  He pulled his gaze away from the two boys, turning towards the lake itself.

"Is it really so hard to tell the truth once in a while?"  Dean knew he was dreaming, that no one was there but her, yet he still felt awkward, exposed.

"You make it sound so easy." Dean sighed. "Half the time the truth makes things in my life exponentially worse, so why the hell would I want that?"

"Because, inevitably, it always comes out.  And you and Sam, and now Cas, almost always suffer for it."  She paused for a moment. "I will give you one thing, you have saved a lot of people. Yes, you've killed a lot too, but lets just start with Chicago and go from there." Dean stiffened.

"I started the apocalypse, stopping it wasn't as much of a good deed as it was cleaning up a mess."

"Oh, I can see what my brother saw in you, Dean. That air of self importance must have been like looking in a mirror."

"Gabriel?" Dean scoffed. "He was nothing but an annoying prick."

"He was my closest friend," she added casually.

"Sorry..." Dean sighed, flushing and digging at the ground with his foot.

"Why? Lucifer killed him, not you."

"Sam let Lucifer out..."  She sighed, placing a hand on Dean's left forearm gently.

"We could have this argument until the universe ends, Dean. I think your capacity for self-blame is one of the wonders of my Father's world."  She pulled her hand away and Dean kept his mouth shut.  She reached out again and took his right arm, running her fingers over the Mark slowly.

"Don't suppose you could get rid of it?" Dean asked, knowing the answer before he said the words.

"Personally? No." She let go of his arm. "But there is a way." Dean's head snapped up so fast he heard bones pop.

"What did you say?!"

"There's a way to remove it." He opened his arms dramatically.

"Care to share?" She shook her head.

"I cannot. But what I can say is it won't be an easy choice." She met his gaze and he was surprised at the darkness he saw there. "And no one even remotely connected to this will be the same after."

"Guess it was too much to hope for a quick easy spell," Dean sighed.

"My Father created that curse, did you honestly think anything less would unmake it?" Dean hung his head. No, he hadn't, which was why he had given up.

"You said in the bar you knew I didn't come here for the Mark." She nodded but didn't say anything. "So you know why I'm really here." He paused. "Can you do that for me?"

"Why?" It was a simple question, but somehow the answer was that much more complicated. He tapped into the part of himself that had sat in that confessional booth. The part of him that cared.

"I can't lose him." He said simply, hoping it was enough.  After considering him for a few minutes that felt like hours, she smiled.

"See you tomorrow Dean."

 

Dean opened his eyes, he was laying in bed in the motel, the small sounds of Cas' breathing and the A/C running suddenly sounding loud in the silence.

"Tomorrow," he whispered.

 


	5. Angel With A Shotgun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a thing with finding meaning in music, so I used a song to help tell story in this chapter. It's "Angel With A Shotgun" by The Cab. For me this is the Destiel theme song, so I had to use it in my fic. Hopefully no one minds me borrowing it!! Getting closer to the fluff!!

 Cas woke slowly the next day, the cool air of the motel room felt soothing against his sore back. He hadn't bothered with the blanket the night before, he had just fallen into bed and passed out after crying... He opened his eyes and sat up slowly, facing the wall. In his sleep he had lost some of his bandages, and when he sat up he noticed some of his cuts had bled on the sheets. He stared at the spots on the bed, the little red reminders he was in pretty poor shape. He attempted to reach around and pull off what wrappings were left on his back, and managed to get most of them without reopening his healing cuts. He would probably need new bandages, but there was no way he could do it himself. He looked around the room but Dean wasn't there.

Taking a deep breath, he tried his grace again. He was rewarded with the sensation of some of the deeper cuts healing, but not enough of them. He sighed, but forced himself not to wallow in his self pity. Cas stood to head to the shower, managing to wash without falling over. The glass from the night before had been cleaned up, he noticed, and he could still smell Dean's aftershave in the air.

_Don't think about that._

He pulled on pants, leaving his shirt off so he could get some more bandages for his cuts. He shaved, brushed his teeth, and had made it halfway back to the bed when the room started to spin around him. He tried to make it to the bed but his legs weren't responding, and as he stumbled he heard the door open.

"Cas?!" Dean dropped whatever he was holding and ran across to catch him before he hit the floor. "Dammit, Cas, you shouldn't be up. You lost way too much blood." Cas sank in to Dean's arms gratefully, and immediately felt himself blush. Dean didn't seem to notice as he walked Cas across to the bed.

"I suppose I did. I was able to heal some, I thought..." He lowered Cas easily.

"Yeah, so not only is your human body exhausted, you just wore out your angel side too," Dean pointed out.

"Oh..." Cas flushed but Dean wasn't looking. He walked over to the bags he dropped.

"I got some stuff for your back... Oh and breakfast." He handed Cas a typically Dean breakfast sandwich of fried meat and eggs, but at the mention of food Cas' stomach had rumbled so he didn't complain. Dean showed Cas a small bottle he had pulled from one of the other bags.

"What's that?" Cas asked through a mouthful of food.

"It's antibiotic, with aloe or some crap. You're mostly human now, and infection is one of the few things booze can't fix." He walked over and checked Cas' back. Cas couldn't see him, but he could feel Dean's eyes on his back, and suddenly he felt uncomfortable in his own skin. Especially when he felt the gaze linger on his shoulders.

"How bad is it?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

"It does look a hell of a lot better than last night. Guess your grace was good for something." Cas flinched at the comment, and Dean must have noticed. "Hey, that's not what..."

"It's fine, Dean." Cas said. He felt the bed sink behind him as Dean sat down.

"Now, don't get used to this. I ain't rubbing lotion on your back for kicks, and it's not happening again.  And if you breathe a word of this to Sam, I will end you." He heard the jest in Dean's voice, but was he imagining the slight hitch in between the sentences?

"I shall try to not get injured like this again." Cas said. Jumping slightly as cool ointment made contact with his inflamed skin. After the initial shock, the effect was instant relief. He sighed.

"Can't believe I'm doing this," Dean mumbled. Cas felt a tug at the corner of his mouth. He could just imagine the flush up Dean's cheeks, the awkward way he tried to apply the ointment while touching Cas' skin as little as possible. When he got up to the shoulders Cas felt his muscles flex as the ointment sank into his worst cut.

"All done." Dean grunted. He stood and tossed the bottle into his duffel, walking over to wash the excess ointment off his hands before sitting down to his own breakfast. Cas finished the food Dean had brought before standing slowly, taking a few steps around the room to get his feet underneath him. The room didn't spin this time, he just felt slightly woozy.

“I think the food helped,” he said. Dean shrugged.

“Generally, eating is a good thing.” After putting on a shirt, Cas sat on the edge of the bed. Dean ate his breakfast in silence. Now wounds had been mended, food eaten, and still neither of them wanted to talk about what had happened the night before. Cas wasn't even sure what he _would_ say to Dean, even if he could.

_I know it's crazy but I think I'm in love with you._

He hung his head, staring at the carpet. He wouldn't burden Dean with this. Dean had given up his fight, Cas was running out of grace and time, was there really a point to even considering acting on this? There was a real chance Castiel was going to have to put Dean down, and the odds were he wouldn't survive that fight either. So why muddy their already broken friendship? He wouldn't risk losing Dean, not when Dean needed help the way he did now.

"You sure you're okay? What did that angel do to your head?" Dean was frowning at Cas, the concern making it even harder to push away the thoughts running through his head.

"I'm fine, Dean." he said, managing to keep his voice even.  Dean nodded, obviously not believing him, and started cleaning his gun, just for something to do.

"So what do we do?" he asked. "She seemed to think we'd have some sort of epiphany last night so we'd be all ready to confess to her tomorrow. I haven't had any revelation of my deepest soul," Dean continued, the sarcasm and skepticism making Cas uncomfortable. How could he answer Dean without lying? If he told Dean he _had_ realized what she was talking about Dean would ask what it was... "Dude, come on, spit it out," Dean said suddenly. Cas jumped, his cheeks flushing and staring at Dean. "You've got something eating at you."

"It's nothing. It's just..." He got caught up in the hunter's eyes. The layer of bravado on Dean's face softened by the concern underneath. Cas opened his mouth, about to just say it right there, wanting to just let it go. "I'm still trying to process it, Dean," was what came out instead. "I'm dying you know," he sighed. Yes, because this was a much more comfortable conversation.

"C'mon Cas, you'll figure something out." Dean felt the emotional conversation approaching and started back pedaling. Was Cas imagining something else on his face? Something about Cas' admission that caught his attention? He brushed it off.

"Without stealing grace from another angel, and without Metatron to get information from... I'm out of options, Dean." He sighed heavily. "I understand how you feel about... about the Mark. I'm going to fight while I'm here," _for you._

"Cas," Dean sighed, rubbing the Mark unconsciously. "I would talk you out of this, if it wouldn't be hypocritical." He let out a chuckle, with no mirth behind it. "I'm one to talk about looking for options and hanging on. Poor Sam is running around looking for ways to help me and I just let him, because I can't." He put his pistol back together, and Cas let the silence hang there for a moment, waiting to see if he'd continue. When it became obvious that Dean had exhausted his supply of talk about his feelings, Cas took a deep breath.

"I guess we'll have to disappoint Amitiel tonight," Cas said quietly. He couldn't tell Dean, the guilt when he mentioned Sam was enough to convince Cas of that. Dean set his jaw and packed his things. "Sorry, you may not get your answers you wanted," he added. Dean shrugged, pulling a beer out of his cooler and handing one to Cas.

"There wasn't much hope anyway."

 

***

 

They sat in the motel, watching crappy TV for the rest of the afternoon, not saying much to each other. Dean was more scared than he thought he should be about Cas' talk about death. He was aware of how bad his own situation was, but to hear Cas say he felt the exact same about himself? That put a wrench in his plans. Maybe he should have talked to Sam... He shut that down almost as soon as it started. He couldn't help but notice the pain on Cas' face, but it had nothing to do with his back. It was something new, something he hadn't seen before last night. So in spite of his assertion that nothing had changed after Amitiel went poking around in his head, he knew something.

Dean wished he could press harder, could bring himself to help his friend. Dean wasn't that person though. He was half a demon barely holding on to his own life, he was done screwing up everybody else's.

After a quick dinner, and a brief half-hearted conversation about skipping out on going to the club that night, Dean and Cas found themselves walking back into the Karaoke Bar, misgivings and all. They found a seat off to the side, out of the way. After a few shots, Dean's nerves were a bit more under control. Still, he jumped out of his skin when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Glad you two showed," Amitiel said in Dean's ear. He crossed his arms, frowning.

"Wish I could say the feeling's mutual." She tutted Dean's attitude and leaned over to Castiel, whispering something in his ear. His eyes widened in shock, a flush running up his cheeks. Dean felt the irritation eating at him, wanting to just get up and go in spite of the dream the night before, but he felt Amitiel's hand on his arm.

"Stay, Dean. It's my last performance after all." Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Really? Pulling up the roots and heading out?" She nodded, suddenly seeming a little less sure of herself.

"It's time. I need to let Kate go," she said. Dean almost felt pity for her, the sadness in her voice genuine.

"Will you take another vessel?" Cas asked. She shrugged.

"I haven't thought about it. It's been so long since I've been home..." she sighed. "Anyway, you boys enjoy the show." She hopped up and headed towards the stage. Dean immediately leaned in towards Cas.

"Imagine the ruckus when she shows up," Dean said to lighten the mood, but Cas' glazed expression said he was somewhere else. As the lights dimmed and people started rushing to the stage, Dean leaned in closer to Cas

"What did she say to you?!" he hissed. Cas flushed and refused to meet Dean's gaze.

"Dean I... can't." Dean held up his hands.

"Ok, fine." It was anything but. This whole trip was turning into a big bust for Dean.

 

***

 

Cas listened as Amitiel performed. Her voice was deeply pleasing, and the performance was enjoyable, almost enough to help him forget his own problems. Each name she pulled out of the jar, each soul she touched, Cas could feel it, the transfer of the burden from the person to the angel. Cas realized then just how much she really helped people. She didn't just help them see what they needed to find peace, she took it from them, letting them breathe easy for the first time.

Except he was feeling anything but peaceful.

_Dean's getting most of what he came here for, Castiel. It's not yours, but it's not stolen, it's given._

The words still echoed around in his mind, the whisper in his ear, her touch against his bare skin, and the feeling after, filling him up and spreading into his entire being. _Grace._ Dean had wanted his grace back, was willing to search on Castiel's behalf and completely ignore his own problem. As he felt his injuries healing, he knew it was back. The feeling of beingnearly whole again was wonderful, and he couldn't help but feel a twitch in the corner of his lip. Dean did this for him, so he meant something to Dean, something important. He didn't want to think about it, he didn't want to get his hopes up, but he couldn't stop himself. He tried to keep from looking at Dean, tried to keep it off his mind, but as they neared her last song, his beating heart was about to burst from his rib cage.

"I've reached my final song." Amitiel announced to the crowd. A sad cry went up from the people. "And thus, my last performance." An equally distressed cry. "No, don't worry now, I'll be here with you always. You've given me so much hope and happiness, I only hope I was able to do the same." She met Castiel's eyes. "I'm not pulling a name out of the jar for this one," she said quietly. A sudden hush fell over the crowd, people looking back and forth to each other in confusion. Dean looked over at Cas, but Cas just shrugged. "The person this song is for knows who they are." Cas suddenly wanted to run, to leave, because he could feel her in his mind. He knew what was coming, he knew what was about to happen. He couldn't move, couldn't bring himself to get away. It was half her influence, and half his own fear. When she started singing, Cas closed his eyes and let it wash over him, because it was all he could do.

 

_I'm an angel with a shotgun_

_Angel with a shotgun_

 

He felt Dean's eyes on him, probably wanting to share the whole 'angel was singing about being an angel' joke, but he didn't say anything when he noticed Cas' expression.

 

_Get out your guns, battle's begun,_

_are you a Saint or a Sinner?_

_If love's a fight, then I shall die_

_with my heart on a trigger_

 

Cas felt the music in his soul, her touch pulling his emotions to the surface in spite of himself.

"Cas?" something must have shown on his face, because Dean was staring at him. "Is this... is this about you?!" he asked. Ah, he figured it out.

 

_I'm an angel with a shotgun,_

_fighting till the war's won_

_I don't care if heaven won't take me back._

_I'll throw away my faith, babe,_

_just to keep you safe_

_Don't you know you're everything I have?_

 

Cas couldn't believe how this song, these words set to a melody, could reach so deep into his soul. He knew it was Amitiel's power guiding his thoughts, but all she did was guide one to the truth already there.

 

_Sometimes to win you've got to sin,_

_don't mean I'm not a believer._

 

"Cas, if this song is for you..." Dean shook his head. "No, I know it's for you, isn't it?" Cas couldn't speak, he didn't trust himself to. He could see Dean's brain figuring out the lyrics, the meaning behind them.

 

_They say before you start a war_

_you better know what you're fighting for._

_Well, baby you are all that I adore_

_If love is what you need,_

_a soldier I will be_

 

"Say something, Cas," Cas wasn't sure what Dean wanted to hear, a denial or an admission. Cas was barely processing what the words meant to him, he didn't think he had enough in him to say anything to Dean.

 

_I'm an angel with a shotgun,_

_fighting till the war's won_

_I don't care if heaven won't take me back._

_I'll throw away my faith, babe,_

_just to keep you safe_

_Don't you know you're everything I have?_

_And I want to live not just survive, tonight._

 

"Cas... please... tell me what's going on." Dean was staring holes in his head, and Cas found himself meeting his gaze for the first time since the song started

 

_I don't care if heaven won't take me back._

 

"Yes, Dean, this song is for me. And yes, it's true. I don't care if I never get back to heaven." Dean frowned.

"Cas? Why not?" Dean's face said he regretted the question the moment he asked it, but Cas felt he had to answer.

"Because there's something more important to me here." He swallowed hard. He saw the fear on Dean's face. Dean knew already, what Cas wanted to say, he just didn't want to believe it.

 

_I'll throw away my faith, babe_

_just to keep you safe._

_Don't you know you're everything I have?_

_And I, wanna live not just survive_

 

_And I'm gonna hide, hide, hide my wings tonight._

 

_They say before you start a war_

_You better know what you're fighting for_

_Well, baby you are all that i adore_

_If love is what you need_

_a soldier I will be._

 

"It's you Dean," Cas sighed. "It's always been you. I gave up everything, for you, and now... I'm going to die and all I can think about is getting _you_ better, not me. I..." As the song ended, and the glow faded from Cas' soul, he suddenly found he was able to move again as Amitiel's influence faded. Castiel couldn't bring himself to even look at Dean. He was afraid of what he would see, afraid that this may be the moment he truly breaks. After everything, Dean had been there, the one constant from crisis to crisis, the one person Castiel trusted unconditionally. He felt like he had betrayed that trust, and now... He walked away, just stood and started going, not caring if Dean was following, not caring if Dean just let him go. He could feel Amitiel watching them as well, felt her gaze on his back but he didn't care, he needed to get away from the words he said.  


	6. Get It Off My Chest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The big moment!! I'm super anxious about this chapter, and what you'll think of it, but I'm trying so very hard not to dissapoint!!

Cas walked from the bar towards a lakefront park down the street, all but deserted now that the sun had gone down. The playground sat abandoned and quiet, still and lonely and for whatever reason, it almost brought tears to Cas' eyes. No, he wouldn't cry, not this time. He had shed those tears, and now he would deal with whatever mess he had got himself into. He made his way out to the pier, walking down to the end and sitting on one of the benches people used for fishing. He stared out at the water, watching the near full moon's reflection bounce and shimmer along the surface as the breeze moved the water. If he hadn't been in such internal turmoil, it would have been peaceful. The breeze kept the humidity at bay, and the calming night sounds of animals and insects hung on the air.

Cas had no idea what to do next. He had never been in love before, never had to deal with the frustration he was feeling, stuck between hanging on to what he had or risking it all for more. Now, with grace back, it almost felt painfully magnified, like a whole second layer sat on top of his already anxious human emotions. He wondered what Dean was thinking, how he would take Cas' admission, and Cas hung his head, imagining the worst. Dean always avoided his emotions and feelings, preferring to just pretend they weren't there, or forcing himself to forget the bad things. The problem with that was he also pushed away his happiness, and with the Mark, he needed something positive to fight it, and had nearly nothing to pull from.

Cas picked up a maple leaf that had blown up on the pier from a tree nearby, considering the brown dead leaf closely. He supposedly had near full grace back, maybe he should test it out. He concentrated, a white light snaking up from his hand to the leaf, reshaping it. After the light cleared, the leaf was flush and green again, alive. He let a sad smile spread across his face, wishing his relationship with Dean was as easily fixed.

"You're grace is back," a voice said behind him. A voice he'd recognize anywhere. Dean had decided to follow him, but Cas didn't let it get his hopes up.

"Not all of it, but enough." He sighed, letting the leaf float from his hand into the lake, floating away slowly.

"It worked," Dean said softly, relief in his voice.

"At least one of us had some success tonight," Cas didn't mean to say it out loud, nor nearly as bitter as it came out. He put his head in his hands and it was silent for a moment.

"Look, I... I can be a dick sometimes." Pause. "Well, all the time." Dean sighed. "I'm not good at this crap, Cas, so that's what I do. I get angry, I get mean, and I push people away." He paused. "But not this time.  You don't deserve that." Cas still couldn't look Dean in the face, but he turned so he at least didn't have his back to him.

"Thank you, Dean, for th-..." He heard a prayer, and his voice got caught in his throat. Dean was praying, for forgiveness, and he could hear it. He closed his eyes, basking in it, forgetting how good that feeling was, and now knowing _why_ it made him feel that way.

"Cas?" Dean asked, noticing the sudden change in him.

"I can hear you," Cas whispered. Dean froze, coughing in embarrassment.

"You heard..."

"Dean," Cas finally turned to look at him, piercing blue eyes finally meeting green. "I want you to know... what I said...

"Cas, c'mon,"

"I'm realizing I've always felt this way, even if I didn't have a name for it.  As an angel I didn't understand it, but when I became human... it brought it all into perspective." Dean looked away, flushing. Cas pressed on, undeterred. "I know it may change things for you, but you need to know I don't expect anything. I just," he sighed, "I couldn't keep it in anymore, I had to tell you. I don't know if it was all Amitiel, or if I just wanted to tell you on my own. But I needed you to know." Dean shifted from foot to foot for a moment, obviously struggling with this as much as Cas was.

"That's not fair, Cas. It makes me the bad guy," Dean was getting agitated, his natural defense. "It puts it on my shoulders, I either break your heart, or..." He hung his head. "I can't do that to you, Cas."

"Dean-"

"I don't know what's going to happen to me, alright? If I can resist the Mark, or if I'm going to give in."  His voice was rising in anger.  "I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow. I could be fine for decades, or tomorrow I might flip, and then you'll have to... put me down," Dean's voice broke, and Cas couldn't help himself. He stood and reached out, placed a comforting hand on Dean's arm, right where he had gripped him for the first time. "That's why I wanted to get your grace back, so that when it's time, you're ready, and so that when it's done... You'll be there for Sam."

"I'll always be here, Dean. Whatever you need." Cas could feel his heart racing. Here he was trying to comfort Dean and he could hardly keep a handle on himself. Dean took a few deep breaths, gathering himself up.

"Cas, in confessional, I.."

"That's private, Dean, you don't-"

"I do. Let me have my chick flick moment, alright?" He said, strongly. Cas dropped his arm and nodded. "I decided I'm not ready to die. I've lived one hell of a craptastic life, Cas. And everything good in it, Sam, Lisa, you... " he paused for a deep breath, "I've always managed to screw it up somehow. I wanted something good in my life for once Cas. Something that lasts because I've never had that, and I wanted it before I go." He rubbed at the Mark, visible in the moonlight, turning and walking back a few steps. "And I don't know if I can have it with this. I don't know if it's already too late. It always feels like 'good' is just out of my damn reach."

"Dean..." He wasn't sure how humans even coped with this. His heart was beating so fast he was sure if he was human it would have given out by then. He went to reach for Dean, and his hand was shaking. He pushed through it and grabbed Dean's shoulder, squeezing tightly.

"You have good things in your life, Dean. Sam and I may have been broken, but you helped put us back together, just like we've put you back together so many times before."

"Not going to be as easy this time," Dean sighed.

"We're still here, for you, Dean." Cas pointed out. "I'm still here." He watched as the muscles in Dean's jaw tightened, felt his shoulder tense under his hand.

"I can't do this Cas," he sighed, his voice shaking. "I think it's...too late for me."

"Too late?" Cas let his hand slip from Dean's shoulder.

"If I give in, if I let myself feel..." he shook his head, turning to Cas, unshed tears filling his eyes. "If I let myself _feel_ , Cas, it's going to get that much harder for me to... to accept this." He balled his right fist then forced it open again.

"Wouldn't it give you something to fight for? Instead of just accepting things? Instead of just waiting around to die?" Cas asked quietly. "I'm not just talking about the two of us Dean, but if we tried..."

"Don't you get it?" Dean snapped, "I can't let myself give in, because if I do..." His jaw was clenched in anger, his right fist squeezed tight. Cas just watched him for a moment, trying to figure out what Dean was trying to say.

"You're scared." Cas whispered.

"Damn right I'm scared," Dean snapped, "I mean, what part of this Mark slowly turning me back into a demon plays out with a happy ending?"

"You're not scared of that, Dean," Cas said quietly. He found it, like he always could with Dean.

 

***

 

Dean stopped, staring Cas in the face.

"Cas..."

"You're scared if you feel something, it'll make you _want_ to fight again. And its easier to just let go." Dean turned away, a tear finally falling down his cheek. He cursed this weakness, hating how he felt, this gnawing in his gut from how conflicted he was. That was the truth, Cas had seen it, seen through Dean's anger. It could be part of Amitiel's affect on them... but what if it _wasn't_? The fact that Cas could do that, could break through was what scared Dean the most. He could fool Sam, he could fool himself, but the fact that he couldn't fool Cas made this so much worse.

"You're right, Cas," Dean couldn't believe he was admitting it, but he saw no way out. "I did this for Sam, because I want him to be safe, to not be alone." He paused. "That's not the whole reason, I came here, to Amitiel. I came here...for you," He turned back to Cas to see his face. _Hell, might as well go all in._ "I wanted you to be whole too, Cas. You've become family to me, and I wanted to take care of you as much as Sam. I wanted..." He could feel the tears falling down his cheeks, and as unlike him as it was, oddly enough it felt good, felt like a huge relief. "I know I'm not long for this world, and I have no illusions about where I'm going to end up after this" he lifted his right arm, "has it's say. I've got no happy ending. I'll be lucky enough if there's an ending for me at all..." Cas' face was pained, it was breaking Dean's heart. "But I wanted to know that the two of you... that you would be ok." Cas took a couple steps towards Dean.

"You came here for me." It wasn't a question. Dean couldn't help but smile through his tears.

"I'm baring my soul to you here, least you could do is keep up."

"Dean, I know you've convinced yourself of all this, but maybe, just maybe, consider the people you profess to care about." Cas stepped closer again, he was mere inches from Dean now. "Sam and I know what the Mark is doing to you, we know what your fate will possibly be. Why do you think we're fighting it so hard?" Dean frowned, confused slightly. "Just because you've given up, doesn't mean we will. Sam loves you, I..." he paused, swallowing hard. Dean felt his heart jump against his ribs. "If this is all going to end bad for you, why does it have to be bad on the way?"

"Cas," he heard what Cas was saying, but he didn't want to.

"I'm not asking you to change what you're doing," Cas said quietly, "I'm not even asking you to fight again. I'm just asking you to let _us_ fight, let us care." He reached out again to touch Dean's arm, Dean tensed but didn't pull away. "If you know you're going to suffer in the end, why make yourself suffer alone on your way there?"

"Because it makes it harder to let go, harder to say goodbye." Dean said, meeting Cas' blue eyes. Suddenly he noticed, more than he had the whole trip, just how human Cas looked, wearing Dean's old clothes. As a matter of fact, it was like he was seeing Castiel for the first time all over again. The messed up hair, the strange way he tilted his head when he was thinking, the small crows feet at the corner of his eyes.

 _Let go, Dean._ He hadn't heard the voice, it was more like he felt it. Was Amitiel still messing around in their heads?   _Just let it go._

And suddenly, it was like a dam had broken inside his chest, and all the emotion, good and bad, he had felt for as long as he could remember came rushing through. His dad dying, selling his soul for Sam, being dragged out of Hell for the apocalypse, losing Bobby, purgatory, the Mark... Yet with all that pain, the release brought with it good memories, things he forgot he had. Hanging at the Roadhouse, long weekends watching movies with Bobby, seeing Castiel back from the dead. Everything Amitiel had said about the truth setting people free, about how in spite of their pain, they would be at peace with their lives, suddenly made sense all at once. Go figure Cas would be the one to break him down.

"Cas, I haven't..." he sighed. He didn't know what to do next. The pure emotion bubbling its way through his chest was overwhelming. He could barely breath, the pressure on his chest was so tight. "I haven't... dealt with things very well." He laughed at himself. _Understatement of the year._ "I'm a hot fucking mess, Cas, and I'm awful at... at all this. But coming clean, talking about this..." he gestured at the two of them, "it's helped."

"I'm glad you confided in me, Dean," Cas said, smiling. Dean felt his heart jump again. _That_ feeling, that was the newest of all of them. The fact that Dean was comfortable enough to share this moment with _anyone,_ let alone the fact that person was Castiel, was enough to make him double take at himself. Was he really feeling... _for Castiel_? What Cas had said about his own feelings...

"Let's get back," he said quietly. Cas nodded and they made their way back to the Impala, making the drive to the motel in silence. What the _hell_ was happening? Dean hadn't lost his grip like this in a long time, and it was scaring him slightly. He never thought to look for comfort in Cas, not like this. Amitiel had said they each had one big secret, and Cas' was a doozy. He reflected that maybe he should have seen it coming. Cas had essentially gone against his very essence, against what made him an angel, just to save Dean from Zachariah's grip. He had risked death and torture, he had rebelled, and he had even become a god, all for Dean's sake. All to stop one world ending event after another. And yes, some of his efforts had gone horribly wrong (leviathan, maybe?) but each time, Cas had come back to Dean. He had come back to apologize and try to make it right _for Dean._ Even after lifting the cage from Sam, when he had totally lost his mind, in his weird way he had still reached out for Dean. He remembered one of the first things Cas had ever said to him. He had asked why he was pulled from Hell, why him.

 _"You don't think you deserve to be saved."_ Even in that moment, when Cas had just met him for the first time, he could see into Dean, see what was buried there, and he _knew_ Dean. Knew all his flaws, but admired him, still trying to save him, no matter how high Dean's body count got, no matter how low Dean fell.

 _Holy shit._ Dean felt betrayed by his own feelings, and suddenly became painfully aware of the angel in the car with him.  The angel with the shotgun.


	7. Can This Last Forever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Dean gets a little uncharacteristically fluffy, but can you blame him? It's been building up to this chapter, hopefully it delivers!!

"Dean, are you going to get out of the car?" Cas asked. Dean had driven them to the motel and hadn't even realized they'd already parked. He got out of the car, slightly embarassed he had been lost that deep in thought. As they walked into the room, Cas reached up behind himself to check his back, now that his grace had healed him. Dean tried not to watch as he reached up the back of his shirt, bare skin visible as the fabric moved. Was he really thinking about this?? About _Castiel?!_ First of all Castiel was a dude, and though Dean could appreciate when a man was attractive, it wasn't something he ever considered about Castiel before. But now, as he watched him sit on his bed, ruffled hair and deep blue eyes, Dean's old tee shirt leaving nothing to the imagination...

He shook his head, going into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. No, he couldn't be thinking that... could he? He splashed some cold water on his face, trying desperately to clear his head. He looked at himself in the mirror, nerves tingling and brain buzzing. It was happening so fast, his lifetime of sullen drunkenness hiding his fears, his hopes, crumbling around him. He half expected to collapse from it, just lose it right there but it wasn't happening. He felt like a hand was holding him up, taking from him all that would crush him and leaving behind just enough to help Dean remember it all. Amitiel, it had to be. He lifted his head, _thank you,_ he whispered, hoping she would hear him.

Now all that was left was to sort out what to do about Castiel.

He knew he would have to deal with his past sooner or later, but the angel in the other room seemed more pressing at the moment. Castiel's strange behaviour the night before as Dean had patched him up, the chill as Dean's fingers had slid over bare skin... Dean felt a shiver run up his own spine. Cas had cried that night, Dean remembered. He could only assume it was about this, that he had figured out what he was feeling thanks to Amitiel's help, and Dean... He sighed. He was just to blind to see it. What would he have done last night, if Castiel had said something? What was he doing now? He doesn't say half a word on the way back and then shuts himself away in the bathroom. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to work out what to do.

Yes, Cas was a guy. Yes, Dean was a guy. Yes, he was very attracted to women. _But..._ Something itched at the back of his mind.  There was something about Cas, something that made this different. He wasn't _just_ a guy to Dean, Dean knew the angel underneath his vessel. Cas had told him on numerous occasions that their true existence was beyond physical form, so if Cas was the one Dean was feeling things for, the vessel he chose shouldn't get in the way...

 

***

 

Cas let Dean have his space. He wanted to make his case to Dean again, try and explain everything that had happened, that he was finally seeing, but he knew Dean. He would lock himself away, and either deal with his feelings, or drink them away. So Cas changed pants and settled into bed. He was finally seeing clear for the first time in years, finally at peace with his decisions. If it took Dean a while to find peace with his, he could wait.

Their conversation the next morning was muted. Neither Dean or Cas said much of anything to each other, just packed up and started off. Dean had brought back a newspaper when he checked them out of the motel, the front page article about Kate finally passing away in peace. They shared a smile at that, but no words. Dean drove farther than he might have on a normal day, stopping only briefly for a fill up and food, making it through Georgia into Tennessee before stopping for the night. They found a diner with decent food for dinner after dropping the car off at a motel, eating their cheeseburgers in silence. They made it all the way to dessert, to Dean's delight the diner had pie, before Cas couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Dean, what are we doing?" he asked quietly.

"Eating pie." Cas sighed.

"No, Dean, we're avoiding what happened." Dean swallowed what he was chewing, suddenly looking like he'd lost his appetite.

"Not during pie, Cas."

"When then?" he said. He wasn't angry, but once they made it back to Kansas, Cas knew Dean would just go back to life with Sam, and the whole trip, in his mind, will have never happened. He watched Dean study his plate for a few minutes.

"I don't know, Cas." He dropped his fork, dropping money for the check on the table and standing to leave. He waved at the waitress and walked out, Cas on his heels. He was afraid this was going to happen, afraid that if he had pressed the issue Dean would just retreat. As he followed Dean into the motel room, he could feel the tension building, suffocating in the small space.

"Dean, please,"

"Just stop, Cas." He sighed. Cas was expecting anger, but Dean didn't even seem agitated, he just seemed tired. "I know what you want to hear, or don't want to hear, but I need time." He met Cas' eyes for a brief moment before sitting on the edge of his bed. Cas sat across from him on the other. "You know, Amitiel did something to me too," he said, running his hand across the Mark. "I had this... barrier between me and all the shit I've ever had to deal with. Because balling up the pain, the guilt, and tossing it up over this fence made it so I could _live_ day to day." Cas didn't say anything, not sure where Dean was going with this line of thought, but glad that he had at least started talking. "Amitiel, she... I don't know, knocked it over. And everything," his voice cracked, and he took a deep breath before continuing. "I mean _everything_ came spilling out and over." His hands were shaking, and Cas wanted to reach out and hold them, to comfort Dean, but stopped himself.

"Something similar happened to me, that first night at the bar. She pulled out specific memories, laid them bare and fresh. I see now she was trying to help me see..." he flushed. "well... you know." Dean set his jaw before continuing.

"Cas... I just need time, you know? To sort all this out in my head. Because if I do the wrong thing here..." he sighed, rubbing his eyes. He was exhausted, Cas could see it all over his face. He reached out, touching his forehead with two fingers, and using his grace helped lift some of that exhaustion. It had been so long since he was able to help, he couldn't help but smile.

"I understand Dean. I just want you to know you don't have to do it alone." Dean stared up at him for a few moments, the droop in his shoulders gone but a new tenseness replacing it. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but shut it just as quickly and stood, grabbing his bag and heading for the bathroom. Cas sat back, not sure if he had done the right thing, but at least he knew he had done _something._

 

_***_

 

Dean almost punched the wall of the bathroom once the door was closed behind him. _Dammit, Cas._ He knew he was being dramatic about all this, but could he help it if twenty some years of crap was just freshly dumped on his conscience? He took a deep breath , clenching and releasing his fist. Anger wasn't going to help him think, if anything it was making it worse. He sat on the edge of the tub, head in his hands. If he was honest with himself, and that seemed to be Amitiel's whole point, he wanted to be happy. He wanted to figure out how to make this Mark go away, how to just go back to being Dean, who hunted ghosts with his brother and his best friend. Could he do that, with Cas' help? Could being that vulnerable really help him? Because if he did... feel things... if he let himself get that close to someone...

Cas knew him, all of him, the good and the bad. He had been there even when Sam had abandoned Dean, been there through his own problems, through his own struggles. Even now, with this new grace, he wasn't out of the woods. It still wasn't his, so it could still fade just like the other grace had. In spite of all that, all he wanted was to help Dean get rid of the Mark.

His heart jumped in his chest again, and he raised his head to stare at the door. He was actually considering this, being with Castiel. Even knowing his vessel was a man, even knowing all that he did about how short his future was probably going to be. He wanted to be with someone before the end, and strangely enough, with Castiel, it seemed like it was already happening, like they knew each other so well already it would be the smallest of steps just to cross over that bridge.

Well _,_ there was one sure fire way to find out. He steeled his nerves, almost laughing that this was the singular most terrifying thing he had done in his life in a long time. He took a deep breath and faced that fear as only Dean Winchester could. He walked out of the bathroom and walked straight up to Cas before he could change his mind.

"I'm going to do something crazy," Dean sighed, "and I might regret it, and it might screw things up, but I need to do it. I need to know, and I'm not going to wait around doing the angsty teenager crap for days." Cas stood up giving him a confused look.

"Do what-" Before he could say anything else, Dean leaned in and kissed him. Quick, chaste, just the barest of touches between their lips. They both seemed frozen, unable to move, unable to look back at the bridge they just crossed.

"Dean-" Cas' voice was shaking. Dean closed his eyes, letting his brain process that moment. He had kissed Castiel, actually done it, and the fact that he _wasn't_ panicking, but had actually calmed down, sealed the deal. Maybe Cas was actually right, maybe this could... _be._ Maybe he had been in just as deep denial as Cas had.

"I'm... okay," Dean said softly, starting to smile. "I really am... I thought I'd..." Cas' own smile started to spread.

"You thought you'd run," Cas finished for him. Dean swallowed, nodding. "But you don't want to." Cas added, leaning in closer, gently pressing his forehead against Dean's.

"For the first time in my life, I don't." He reached up and wrapped his hand around the back of Cas' neck, and Cas relaxed into his touch.

"We're broken, Dean. I'm half an angel, you're half a demon. But maybe because we're broken, we're the ones to put ourselves back together."

"This could all go to shit any day Cas, you know that." Dean wasn't letting it go, wasn't going to pretend that everything was good. It wasn't, he knew that, but it could be _better_...

"I do know this isn't over." Cas reached out and placed his hand over the Mark, Dean tensed to pull away, but he didn't. Instead, his whole body relaxed, like a rubber band being let go before it snaps.

 

***

 

"Cas-" Dean's voice was heavy with unspoken things, but Cas understood, and he leaned in and kissed Dean again, pressing his lips against the hunter's gently before he could keep speaking. A warmth was spreading through Cas from his chest out, and he tried to send it through to Dean, to comfort him. In that moment Dean was everything to Cas, nothing else mattered. The feel of Dean's lips, the softness of his hair though Cas' fingers as he ran his hand up the back of his neck, the press of Dean's hand against Cas' cheek. After only a few moments that felt like hours, Dean pulled away, leaning his forehead against Cas' again.

"So are you okay?" Cas asked quietly.

"Other than exhausted from the inside out?"

"I can imagine this was emotionally draining for you," Cas agreed. "I am sorry that... it was not my intent."

"Cas, it's okay. Stop apologizing." Dean was smiling, honestly smiling, and it was something Cas had missed so much.

"So what now?" Cas asked, unsure what to do.

"We should probably get some sleep," Dean sighed. "We've gotta drive back to Kansas tomorrow." Cas nodded, releasing his grip on Dean. Dean gave him a comforting smile, and Cas smiled back, a fluttering in his stomach.

 

***

 

As Dean walked into the bathroom to change, he felt lighter than he had in ages. Like a burden had been removed from his shoulders without him even being aware he was carrying it. Finding out how Cas felt, knowing that he meant that much to anyone... It was a good feeling, one he hadn't had in a very long time. He was oddly proud of himself for not freaking out. He had told himself that he would try a kiss, at least once, just to know if anything could happen. There would either have been something more, or he wouldn't have felt anything. But he needed to know, it had felt wrong to him to make Cas wait while he argued back and forth with himself for ages. He knew it was reckless but maybe he needed a bit more of that in his life.  Once he finished changing and stepped out of the bathroom, he saw Cas standing there waiting, a huge smile on his face.

"What?" Dean asked.

"It's just... I'm happy," Cas said, tilting his head. Dean smiled back.

"I know, that's something new for both of us." Dean agreed, feeling a goofy smile start to spread across his own face. Cas gave Dean a small kiss on the cheek as he walked past to get ready for bed himself. Dean crawled into bed, the nerves in his stomach almost pleasant compared to the dread that had been there a few days before. When Cas came out of the bathroom, he walked over, sitting on his bed across from Dean. Dean for a moment felt disappointment, a part of him wishing Cas had climbed into his bed. He realized Cas would never be the one to initiate that next step, that it would be up to him. He wasn't sure he was ready for cuddling, he was just getting used to his apparent 'bisexual' side.

In spite of that, Dean couldn't stop himself from staring at Cas, seeing things he'd never noticed before. Little nuances and gestures that were totally Cas, and it made him blush. When Cas laid down across from Dean, he got lost in his eyes, eyes he had never noticed were so blue.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Goodnight."

 

***

 

The ride in the Impala the next day was filled with small talk, something Cas had been so bad at most of his time on earth, but with Dean, he found talking was easier. He found that making Dean laugh about his apparent lack of knowledge of the world was good therapy for him. Not once on the ride did he itch at the Mark, nor did the expression of barely concealed anger cross his face. He was forgetting life, and Cas was so thrilled he too forgot about it, about his grace, about everything. He was finally getting to know Dean before he knew him, before he carried the burdens of the world on his shoulders.

To Cas' surprise, when they were only a couple hours out from the bunker, Dean pulled over into another motel.

"Why are we stopping?" he asked, getting nervous for some reason. Dean sighed, the first sign of uncertainty crossing his face.

"I'm not ready to go back," he said simply.

"Go back to what?"

"To reality." He clenched his right fist, and Cas felt the easy mood deflate. "When we get back to the bunker its back to the Mark and... I'm enjoying this too much, Cas. Is it wrong to want one more night?"

"No," Cas answered immediately. He reached out and grabbed Dean's right hand, forcing it to relax. "To be honest, I'm not ready to go back either." He felt Dean squeeze his hand back.

"Okay."

They checked into a room, and Cas took a turn going out to get dinner. He managed to find a diner that had pie, grabbing a couple slices to go with their food. As he walked back to the motel, he considered what would happen when they returned to the bunker. Dean was right, it would be right back to life as they left it, and their new found... whatever they had... would it survive? What was going to happen to this when they returned? Cas shook his head, stopping that line of thought. There wasn't much there at the moment, what was there to lose?  There was something he could do, to help put Dean at ease.  Or it could scare Dean away permanently, he reasoned, but it was worth the risk.

 

***

 

Dean was dreading returning to the bunker. He had just found himself again, the Dean from years ago who just hunted textbook monsters and had a beer with his brother. The one who didn't know about angels and demons and just worked case to case. That Dean, in his odd way, was happy. Now, he had grasped some of that happy again, here with Cas. Would things change for them? Would he be able to hold onto his small piece of happiness? He wanted to think he could, and he knew Sam would be supportive, but being back in that environment, with old emotions rushing back in...

"I found pie, Dean," Cas announced as he walked in. He set the food on the table, looking up at Dean with those beautiful eyes...

Dean's heart took control suddenly and he was moving before he realized it. He walked straight up to Cas, wrapping his arms around him, holding him. Cas froze, arms straight at his sides and rigid, but it was only a few moments before he was leaning into Dean, his arms reaching around and pressing into his lower back. It felt so right to be there holding him, to be there in that moment together. The rest of the world dropped out from around Dean and he forgot about the bunker.  All that remained in the universe was Castiel, his scent, his arms around Dean. Dean pulled back slightly, his forehead pressed against Castiel's, his best friend becoming something so much more.

"I don't know if this is real," Dean sighed. Running his right hand through Cas' hair to rest on the back of his neck. "I'm almost afraid to let myself believe it." He ran his other hand over Cas' arm, grabbing hold of his hand.

"This is real, Dean," Cas slid his fingers through Deans, his other running along his jawline softly. "I was thinking, before we get back, I'd like to show you something. Can I..." He trailed off, suddenly nervous.

"Can you what?" Dean asked, picking up on Cas' anxiety. Cas pulled him by the hand to the bed. "Hey, at least buy me a drink first," Dean jested. Castiel must have picked up on his innuendo and sighed.

"That was not what I had in mind," he said. He sat Dean down, Dean feeling both relieved and disappointed at the same time. Cas pushed on his shoulders. "Lay back, I'm going to put you to sleep." Dean hesitated for a moment, then did as Cas asked.

"Take it I'll see you on the inside?" He asked. Castiel nodded, reaching out and softly placing two fingers on his forehead.

 

Dean was in a field, the greenest grass he had ever seen under a beautiful blue sky. Blue the color of Cas' eyes. Almost as if he conjured him just by thinking of him, Cas appeared. No longer in Dean's old clothes, he was in his trademark coat and suit. Dean smiled.

"So my old rags not good enough for my dream, Cas?" he asked. Cas frowned slightly and tilted his head.

"Since the clothes do not actually exist I fail to see how it's a judgement of your taste in clothes." Dean laughed. It felt good to laugh again. Cas grinned. "It's so nice to hear you laugh, Dean." Dean felt his cheeks burn slightly, and gestured around them.

"So what did you want to show me?" he asked. Cas shifted nervously, like a child almost.

"Being an angel my concept of gender is not as...confining as yours may be. And since my vessel is a man, and you have prejudices of-" Dean waved a hand to cut him off.

"Does this have something to do with you being a dude? And me... well... being with a dude instead of a woman?" Cas full on blushed.

"Well, yes." He was so nervous, Dean couldn't help but tease him about it.

"C'mon Cas, what's got your panties in a bunch?"

"I wanted to show you something, as best I could, to help you understand... well to see..." He sighed, stepping back from Dean. "I want to show you my true form."

"Whoa wait," Dean said, holding up his hands, "when people see you as you are generally their eyes get vaped."

"Yes, but that's why we're here." Cas opened his arms. "Here, I can control reality, I can protect you from my _full_ presence. I just... I want you to see me, Dean, the way I can see you. The way I don't just see _you_ , but your soul, every part of you." Dean felt a slight lump in his throat, wondering for a moment if Cas realized the affect saying things like that, so honestly, had on Dean. "I want to do this because I'm worried, if something doesn't change, when we get back..."

"Cas, I know." Dean sighed. "I've been worried too."

"Then let me show you."

"Okay, as long as my eyes don't go extra crispy."

"It won't be my full form, just an approximation, don't worry." Cas smiled then closed his eyes, spreading his arms. A white light started to shine. It seemed to envelope Dean, filled his very soul. It was soothing and warm, and it washed over Dean gently. As it faded, it shrank back into the form of a person. Dean could recognize the shape, but it was so much more than the faint outline of a person. It was eternal and bright, but at the same time brief and fragile. His eyes were drawn behind the figure to two majestic wings raising up behind it. They were white and grey, shimmering of their own accord, each at least over six feet long. Dean walked closer, reaching out to touch a feather. It was like silk running through his fingers.

"Castiel?" He whispered.

"It's me, Dean." It wasn't Cas gravelly voice, his vessel's voice. It almost wasn't a voice at all, just a thought Dean felt in his mind.

"Cas, you're..." He couldn't find words for what he was seeing. The being was made up of pure light, and yet Dean knew the face, like he would recognize it anywhere.

And just like that the light faded and Castiel, as Dean knew him in his vessel, was sitting on the edge of the bed next to Dean in their motel room, with a soft smile on his face.

"That was... Cas that was beautiful." His voice shook and he felt tears on his face. "I'm crying...again. This new me is weepy." Cas ran a hand under Dean's eyes, wiping away his tears.

"It's alright, it's why we didn't stay there long. I wasn't even sure it had worked until..." Cas shuddered like a chill had gone down his spine. The first time Dean saw Cas do that was when he was patching up his back and saw the marks on his shoulders.

"You felt me, when I touched your... your wing." It felt strange saying it out loud, but Dean grinned. He had touched an angel, his angel, the one behind the vessel sitting in front of Dean. The one behind those deep blue eyes. _God, those eyes._

"It was... unexpected. But I've learned that unexpected just happens when you're around." Dean flushed under Cas' stare, but didn't look away.

"That's my MO." Cas was half turned towards him, so Dean reached up, running his hand along the hollows on his shoulders through his old shirt. Only now they weren't hollow, there were slightly raised muscles where the hollows had been. Dean sat up, he almost wasn't able to tell, except that he was looking for them.

"Well, now. Got your wings back." Cas let out a contented sigh.

"Because of you, thank you," Cas said softly. Dean didn't know what to do with himself. This was all uncharted territory for him, feeling like this. Even his time with Lisa hadn't been this way, full of butterflies and things he associated more with chick flicks than real life. He never expected to feel this way himself, so lost in someone else.

Cas stood and brought their food over, both of them digging in with gusto. It was almost like Dean was on a high, and he never wanted to come down. After eating, Cas stood and took their trash away, then came back sitting right next to Dean on the bed. Hesitantly, not wanting to ruin the moment, Dean scooted over behind Cas, pulling him into a hug, the angel leaning on his chest. Cuddling wasn't something he normally did either, but what the hell, right? New day, new Dean. He ran his hands over Cas' chest, feeling his heart beating and remembering all the times Cas almost died, or had died, and that heart had stopped.

"We almost didn't make it this far, the two of us. Hell, during the apocalypse I think you died at least five times..."

"Dean..."

"And yet, here we are, in a dingy motel years later, and Dean Winchester is both cuddling and talking about his feelings. Crowley must be freezing his ass off." It took a moment for Cas to understand the 'hell freezing over' comment, but then he laughed, and Dean laughed right with him. He was light headed, giddy, and he liked the feeling. He bent his head and nuzzled into Cas' neck, taking in his scent, like honey and the smell after it rains. Nothing had ever felt so right, than holding him in that moment. He was able to forget everything, forget the pain, the feel of his fate creeping up on him, and just enjoy holding Cas in his arms.  Cas leaned his head back against Dean's shoulder.

"Dean?"

"Hm."

"Would it be too forward of me to tell you I love you?" Dean felt his breath catch in his throat as his heart danced around in his chest, as if it was trying to escape.

"Cas," he could hear his voice shaking, "I- I'm... I uh, ..."

"It's okay," Cas said sitting up so he could turn and face Dean. Dean stared into those eyes, small circles of blue light. "I understand this may take time. I just wanted you to know." Dean swallowed, trying to get his mouth working right.

"I already knew, Cas," Dean managed to say, surprising himself. "It's just hearing it..." Cas leaned in and kissed him, just a brush of the lips, and Dean found himself wishing for more.

"I wanted to say it." Cas stood, grabbing his duffel and walking towards the bathroom. As silly as it was, Dean missed his touch the moment he stood up, blushing at the thought, embarrassed by his apparent regression into his nervous teenage years.

"Where're you going?" he asked. Cas pulled his sweats out of the bag, looking at Dean slightly confused.

"I thought I would get changed to sleep?"

"You drop the 'L' bomb and just walk away? Timing, Cas." Dean stood and walked up to Cas, getting as close as he could without touching him.

"I... didn't want to complicate things..." Cas was blushing furiously. "This is still new... for both of us..."

"Complicate things? I think that's the definition of us Cas."

"Yes but uh... my body, it's becoming... aroused." Dean felt his mouth hanging open, a furious blush running up his own cheeks. Again with the awkward teenager thing.

"Oh, right," was all he managed to say, looking anywhere but at Castiel. They stood there for an awkward moment.

"I should go-"

"Yeah, ok."

Dean stepped aside and Cas walked past him to the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

 


	8. When You Say You Love Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright you smut fiends, here's my attempt. It's meant to be a bit more romantic than raunchy, but I did my best.

Cas could feel his heart banging inside his chest. This sensation, this _longing._.. he turned the shower on, stripping off Dean's clothes. No, try not to think about that. Or Dean's hands on his chest, the feel of Dean's breath on his neck... He crawled into the shower, trying to wash the thoughts away. This was a stage in any normal human relationship, Cas knew. He and Dean, that was anything _but_ normal. What little control he had over his human body was failing at the moment. He took some deep breaths, calming his racing heart. His vessel was a man, and Dean up until then only had enjoyed the company of women. Cas reflected that he himself had only known a woman's company as well, but for him it had nothing to do with preference. He didn't see gender the way humans did, which is why he had shown Dean himself, underneath the vessel. However, he didn't want to press an already delicate issue so quickly, for Dean's sake.

Once he felt he was safely under control, he stepped out of the shower, drying off and pulling the sweat pants on quickly. He would just go straight to bed, no more talking, no more emotional unload. Enough had happened tonight as it was. Cas was pleased, he had cracked Dean's shell, gotten him to at least open up to the idea of loving someone again. For now, that would be enough.

 

***

 

Dean had been on such a roller coaster just over the past few days, he could hardly breathe. Now _this_ was being added to his plate. He really hadn't considered yet, the _full_ repercussions of being in a relationship with Castiel. He was pacing, trying to calm himself down. Was he ready for that? He was only just beginning to understand what was happening between him and Cas, only just getting used to the idea of being vulnerable again. Cas had taken that step, but as Cas had said, he had felt this way about Dean for some time. He had been able to take the time to sort through all this.

"Dean?" Cas said from behind him. He froze in place, afraid to turn around and let Cas see what was sure to be a look of panic on his face. "Are you okay?"

"Fine, Cas." He busied himself going through his duffel looking for nothing, avoiding looking at Cas.

"I've made you uncomfortable." It wasn't a question. Dean sighed, rubbing his eyes.

"Don't worry about it, Cas. I'm just... I'm still getting used to all this." He finally turned around and found Cas, shirtless with sweat pants low on his hips, standing right behind him. A few days ago, he would have said something about personal space, made a joke about it. But now all he could do was barely swallow the bubble in his chest.

"I understand." he said. He reached out and touched Dean's cheek. "Goodnight, Dean." He turned away and crawled into bed.

Dean ran into the bathroom, _again_. He tried to calm himself, tried to get his mind to relax, but all he could see when he closed his eyes was Castiel. The mussed up hair, the slight sheen of the water on his chest, the curve of his hip bones as they met the elastic of his pants. Dean knew this feeling, this he was familiar with. He _wanted_ Cas, plain and simple, there was no dancing around it. Should he go through with it this soon? He showered faster than he ever had before, threw on pajamas, and practically ran to get in bed, pulling the blanket over his head like a child hiding from monsters. A sudden thought occurred to him, and embarrassed him so much he was afraid he was glowing in the dark.

If Cas had been a woman, Dean wouldn't have hesitated like this.

He buried his burning face in the pillow, feeling a slight level of shame. Even with the strong emotions he was feeling, he would have taken the risk of complicating things with her and done it anyway. Cas was different, he made Dean feel a way he had never felt with a woman before, not even Lisa. He had given Dean so much over the years, had sacrificed so much for him, more than anyone else, except maybe Sam. To have shared those experiences, gone through all the pain and grief together, it takes you beyond just a 'good friend'. He trusted Cas, he wanted to be with him, to let Cas help him forget all the shit that was ruining what remained of his life, and he knew Cas could do that for him. In a way, their relationship began a while ago, it just took a long time for Dean to see it. For him to see the change in himself that Cas had been causing.

He took a deep breath. Yeah, it was soon, and maybe he would regret it in the morning, but dammit he had opened the floodgates, and when years of suppressed feelings were rolling out all at once, he couldn't stop it, even if he wanted to. When it came to Cas, he had lost all his willpower, all his restraint. He couldn't say the words, not yet, but deep down, he knew them.

 

***

 

Cas had his back to Dean's bed, trying to give him some privacy. He could tell from all the sighs and huffs and the squeaking of the mattress Dean was tossing and turning, probably thinking too much. He wanted to talk about it, but didn't know what to say. This might be their last night alone for some time, and it looked like Dean had decided it was too much.

Which is why he was beyond surprised when he heard Dean get up and felt the bed behind him sink down.

"You still awake?" Dean said softly, almost like he wished Cas wasn't.

"Yes," Cas said, rolling over onto his back so he could see him. In the dark he could barely make out Dean's expression, but he could still see his soul, and the inner turmoil raging inside. He felt Dean's hand reach out for his where it rested on his stomach. Dean, who was usually so sure of himself, so strong, shaking like a leaf just because he was holding Cas' hand. If Cas hadn't been afraid of ruining the moment, he would have laughed.

"Look... I... I've..." Dean sighed, obviously unable to figure out what he wants to say to Cas. Cas squeezed his hand.

"Dean, it's okay," he said softly, sitting up. He's mere inches away from Dean now, he can feel the heat coming off his body, the press of his thigh against Dean's hip. It was like every sense was heightened, and not just from having grace back. "You don't have to say anything." He reached out and ran a hand through Dean's hair, drawing a sigh from Dean as he closed his eyes and leaned into Cas' touch. Cas managed to keep calm and controlled, because he knew Dean needed him to be. Dean closed his eyes and suddenly he was praying, forming in thoughts what he couldn't say in words. His gratefulness to Cas, his desire to be with him, but at the same time his fear of losing what little they had. Cas realized how intimate something like this could be, when, without intending to do it, Dean also started expressing his... _lust._ Cas, in that moment, lost himself. He sighed, pulling Dean into a hug, holding him tightly.

"Cas...you heard..."

"It's okay, Dean. I promise," he paused to kiss Dean's forehead, "that I'm here.  Always." Dean relaxed, his relief palpable. He leaned into Cas, kissing him. This wasn't the same chaste kiss they had shared earlier, this one was deep, filled with emotion and want. Cas let Dean guide him, let him set the pace, but had to admit to his own giddiness when Dean's lips parted, his tongue licking against Cas'. He responded with his own, tasting Dean for the first time. It was clumsy, it was messy, and it was fantastic. Cas lost himself in Dean, whiskey and aftershave melting into a scent unique to Dean, a scent almost as intoxicating as the alcohol itself.

Dean's hands began to move over Cas, mapping his chest, back, sides with touches ranging from delicate to needy. Dean's experience was evident, his movements deliberate and measured in spite of his nerves.  Castiel felt little shocks run through his skin every time Dean's hands traced a new area of bare skin.  Dean found Cas' lower back, leaning Cas backwards onto the bed as he pulled his body closer. Dean planted a knee on either side of Cas' left leg and rested on his elbows, his body hovering only inches from Cas'. They broke their kiss long enough for oxygen, Dean's labored breathing giving Cas a new sense of confidence. He leaned in, planting little kisses along his neck and shoulder, and Dean let a soft moan escape his lips. Cas' hands were running over Dean's chest, feeling the way the muscles moved under the skin, the beating of Dean's heart through his chest, how _human_ he was, and it was the most beautiful thing Cas had ever experienced.

 

***

 

"Cas..." Dean breathed. He was giddy, terrified, and eager all at once. It was like being a virgin all over again, and the thought almost made him laugh out loud. The feel of Cas' kisses down his neck making him shake, his body no longer under his control. He leaned down and started kissing at Cas' jawline, tracing it with his lips and teeth. It felt so good, being there with him in that moment, the stubble on his cheeks making Dean flush with desire, a new feeling like so many others he had felt that night. Cas' back arched slightly as Dean nibbled at his ear, his chest coming into contact with Dean's, sweat was already starting to slick their skin. Dean was amazed he could do this to Cas, that he cold make him squirm with desire just from a few kisses, and then realized Cas was doing the same thing to him.

Cas pushed up with his arms, gently rolling Dean over and trading places with him. He paused for only a moment to rake over him with his eyes, then started kissing down Dean's chest, his tattoo being paid special attention to. Dean ran a hand through Cas' hair, a small gasp escaping his throat. _The sex hair,_ he had thought to himself when he first met Cas. How little did he realize how prophetic that would be. Cas looked up from his kisses, those blue eyes full of desire sending a shock through Dean's system. He was making sure Dean was okay, and he didn't even have to say a word. Dean responded by lifting the leg between Cas' knees, running his thigh along Cas' until...

"Dean..." Cas grunted, his body shaking. Dean could feel Cas' erection against his thigh, felt his own twitching in response. They froze there for a moment, another bridge crossed and burned behind them. Dean ran his fingers along Cas' jaw, nodding in encouragement.

Cas went back to work on Dean's chest, kissing and nipping until Dean was panting. His hips moved upwards as his body rose to Cas' touches, his own arousal rubbing along Cas' stomach. Dean lost what little control he was maintaining over his voice, moaning softly at the contact. Cas slid farther down, his kisses tracing the ab muscles on Dean's stomach, one by one. Dean couldn't speak, couldn't do anything but watch as Cas drew closer to the waistband of his pants, a groan escaping his lips every time a new bit of skin was explored by Castiel. He reached the elastic, running his fingers along Dean's waist. He paused, another glance asking Dean if he was okay. He reached out and stroked Cas' lips, wet with saliva from exploring Dean's body, and one of the most sensual things he had ever seen.

"Cas... please," he couldn't remember the last time he had let go like this, that he had allowed the person he was having sex with so much control over him. The primal lust in Cas' eyes at the sound of Dean's voice threw any doubts Dean had away. Slowly, Cas hooked a finger at the waistband of Dean's pants and boxers, just above each hip. He gently, agonizingly slow, pulled them down, standing over Dean long enough to pull them off and toss them on the floor. The cold air on Dean's exposed erection sent goosebumps down his arms, but it wasn't long before Cas was leaning over him again, kissing Dean's stomach, his own arousal pressed against Dean's leg through his pajamas. He reached out and gingerly took Dean into his hand, running his thumb over Dean's sensitive tip. Something between a gasp and a groan escaped Dean, as he fought the urge to thrust against Cas' touch.

Why was it so easy for Cas to take him apart like this? Cas started to stroke Dean, a slow steady rhythm. Suddenly he could feel Cas' mouth on his length, his tongue rubbing against the underside of his erection.

"Oh, _shit_ Cas," Every breath was a groan, every movement intoxicating. In spite of either of them lacking experience with another man, Cas sure seemed to know what he was doing.  Cas slowly slid up and down along Dean, tongue swirling against the head as he got to the top. It was infuriating, Dean wanted more, but the steady rhythm kept his pleasure back, turning him on without driving him over the edge. He wanted to go over, he wanted it more than he should have, and he could feel Cas' own erection, throbbing against his leg. Dean couldn't take it anymore.

 

***

 

Dean sat up suddenly, pulling Cas up to him and kissing him hard, his tongue licking into his mouth. Cas wondered if Dean could taste himself, the salty sweat mixed with pre-come. Cas wanted more, wanted to go back to pleasing Dean but Dean had grabbed him tight, and suddenly he was the one on his back as Dean kissed him everywhere he could reach. Cas squirmed under Dean's kisses and love nips, teeth, tongue, and lips attacking every bit of bare skin from his neck to his navel. Dean ran his hands down Cas' sides, tracing his hip bones with his fingers. He licked them, glancing up at Cas as he did and Cas let out a little whimper. Dean smiled, pleased with himself, reaching around Cas and pulling his hips tight against him, biting at his hip bones.

"Dean..." Cas gasped hoarsely, his normally deep voice rough with desire. Dean grabbed Cas' pants, pulling them down and off quickly, as if any moment not touching Cas was a moment wasted. He didn't waste any time and took Cas' length into his mouth, Cas' hips jumping up uncontrollably. He watched Dean as he swallowed him down, driving him crazy with this lust, this need Cas had never truly understood before. Yes, he had experienced sex before, but to feel a connection this deep, to have the emotion behind it, the passion, was something Cas had never experienced, and it was enough to drive him half out of his mind. He gripped the sheets, his knuckles white. It was too much, and yet not enough at the same time. It was all Cas could do to anchor onto the flashes of green that were Dean's eyes and ride out what was happening to him.  Dean released his length, wrapping a hand around it and giving it a few quick strokes, smiling wolfishly at Cas.  Cas took the opportunity and gripped Dean's shoulders, pulling him up and kissing him hard, tasting himself in Dean's mouth. Dean bit at Cas' lower lip, his breathing ragged.

"What are you doing to me, Cas?" he gasped, burying his face in Cas' neck, his whole body shaking. Cas buried his hand in Dean's hair as he raised his hips up to Dean's, grinding against him with a purpose and he was rewarded with a growl escaping Dean's chest.

"I'm loving you, Dean," he breathed into Dean's ear, his own voice a rough tremor of its' former self and with that Dean wrapped a hand around both of their erections, thrusting against Cas as his hand massaged them both. Cas' head tilted back as a moan escaped him, and Dean kissed at his exposed neck. Cas lost himself in Dean's touch, becoming nothing but primal desire, his hips thrusting into Dean's hand, grunts and gasps escaping both of their throats. Dean's fist massaged them expertly, and Cas had to bite down on Dean's shoulder to keep from crying out.  A growl escaped Dean's throat, and he sped up his movement.  Cas could feel a heat, a pressure building inside him ready to burst.

"Cas...I'm gonna-"

"Me, too Dean-"

A sudden blinding light flashed behind Cas' eyes, his orgasm hitting him hard. His whole body tensed and his back arched into Dean as the pressure released, and a few seconds later, he felt Dean do the same, shouting incoherently as he rode his own wave of pleasure. Dean collapsed against Cas, their bodies a mix of tangled limbs and sweaty mess. Cas didn't care, he just wanted to hold Dean there, in that moment, to know that this had been real. He kissed the top of Dean's head, running a hand along his back as they both came down from the high.

"Cas, I..." Dean started, looking up at Cas, but he shushed him with a soft kiss.

"It's okay, Dean." Cas smiled, happier than he had ever been before, and to his delight, Dean smiled back.

 

***

 

After a while, in spite of the romantic afterglow, the mess became to uncomfortable and they both made their way to the bathroom, sharing a chaste kiss on the way. Dean was still a bit out of breath, but he felt the grin on his face. He hadn't had sex that good, that weak in the knees afterwards kind of good, in a very long time. He got the water running and grabbed a couple of wash cloths.

Which is when he looked down and saw the Mark. He glanced at it, where the angry welt rose up against his skin. Almost as if he was reading his thoughts, Cas ran a hand along it.

"How is it?" he asked. Dean clenched and released his fist.

"Honestly? I forgot about it." He saw Cas' smile and his heart jumped against his chest.

"That's a good sign," he said softly. Dean smiled.

"Yup, just give me some mind blowing sex with my angel." He realized how dorky and cute, and very un-Dean that sounded after it came out, and felt himself blush furiously. Cas took the wash cloths and wiped them both clean.

"'Your' angel?" Cas asked. Dean swallowed hard, not sure he could speak. "I suppose I could be," he said softly. He tossed the cloths in the bathtub, turning the water off.

"I think I want that, Cas. And it scares the crap out of me," Dean sighed. "I'm a mess more than half the time, and the other half I'm barely keeping it together. I just..." Cas turned to look at him, the concern on his face so easy to read. Dean looked over Cas' shoulder to the wall, not really seeing anything. "What if I snap tomorrow, say something and poof, this is all over before it starts."

"Dean, there is nothing you could possibly say that would make me give you up without a fight." Cas said quietly. The sincerity in his voice made Dean tear up.

"What if I try to kill you, Cas?" he said softly. There it was, the real root of all this. If he turned, he wouldn't care how much he cared for Cas, once the demon was back... Cas took both his hands, leading him out of the bathroom and back to bed. He let Cas lay him down and pull him into his arms, holding Dean tight.

"If it comes to that, if this all changes tomorrow, I'd rather have this tonight than the rest of my life without it."


	9. A New Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY posting the last chapter. Sorry it took so long, went on vacay in the middle. Little bit of fluff, little bit of smut. Happy endings all around :)

Cas woke the next morning to find himself alone in bed. Maybe last night had just been a dream, his own wishful thinking. He looked around the room. Dean was gone, again. Immediately Cas' mood fell. In the heat of the moment last night, he hadn't stopped to think about what would happen the next morning. After he and Dean... He sighed. Sex wasn't new for Dean, but Cas knew this was much more personal than what Dean was used to. Cas had reached inside Dean and pulled out a part of him that had never seen the light of day before, and if it scared Castiel, he could only imagine how Dean was feeling. If he had panicked the next morning Cas wouldn't blame him. He considered calling Dean, then decided against it. If he wanted his space, he should let him be, and just hope when Dean came back around the other side they could...

  
Could what? Be friends? Lovers? Cas stood and headed to the bathroom, climbing in the shower. He stood there, letting the water wash away his worries. There was nothing he could do now, it was all in Dean's hands. He toed at the wash cloths from the night before. Feeling Dean like that, being that close to him and experiencing something so passionate, was more than Cas had ever hoped for. If Dean decided it was too much, he at least had that one night, that beautiful moment when he couldn't tell where he ended and Dean began. He climbed out of the shower and got dressed, suddenly aware just how odd it was to be wearing Dean's clothes. He held the shirt in his hands for a moment, an older shirt with a faded "Led Zepplin" written on it. He remembered Dean wearing it once, and he and Sam arguing about music while Cas watched bemused. He could see the fabric pulled over Dean's chest...

  
Cas shook his head, pulling the shirt on.

  
He walked back out into the room, and jumped when he noticed Dean had returned, freezing just outside the bathroom. Dean was unpacking food over on the table, full of an energy Cas hadn't seen in years.

"Dean?" Cas asked. He turned and smiled.

  
"Hey, Cas. So I thought we could have something resembling a real breakfast this morning." He moved and Cas saw two stacks of pancakes on the table. Cas still hadn't moved, afraid he was still dreaming. "What's wrong? Not like pancakes?" Dean asked. When Cas still didn't respond he dropped the joking. "What is it?" He walked up to Cas, concern evident on his face.

  
"I thought... when you weren't here I thought you..." He felt the fear all over again.

  
"You thought I bolted," Dean sighed, running a hand over the back of his neck. "I'm sorry, Cas. I didn't think how that would look." He walked closer and wrapped his arms around him, clumsily. It was new for both of them, being this intimate. Cas breathed deep, taking in the whiskey scent of Dean and sighed.

  
"We... I didn't know if what we... if it had been too much..." Cas was clinging to Dean tightly.

"Hey, you'll be pleased to know you're the very first person that, the first time I slept with them, I didn't haul ass the next day." He kissed Cas' forehead. "Now come on, let's eat." He and Cas sat and ate in silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable, or empty. It was almost like they didn't need to speak, they just knew.

"So, how are we going to tell Sam?" Cas asked. Dean coughed and had to take a drink before answering.

"Hadn't gotten that far yet," Dean admitted. "I haven't thought too far beyond this morning, actually."

"You're still afraid to." Cas said softly. Dean nodded.

"It's still here." Dean ran his hand over the Mark. "It's still here." He touched his chest above his heart. "Difference is you're here too," he smiled at Cas. "And maybe it'll make it better, make it easier. But I still can't think too far ahead, you know." Cas understood, and didn't blame Dean for it at all. They both lingered in the motel longer than was needed after eating, packing and repacking, making the bed, hanging up their towels. Cas met Dean's gaze after a moment, and they both started to laugh at the same time.

"What are we doing, man?" Dean sighed.

"I believe we're stalling." Cas said. Dean nodded, grabbing the bags.

"Well, if we don't go now, we'll never get out of here." He walked out, and after a moment Cas followed. He climbed into the Impala, catching a glimpse of himself mirrored in the window. He looked better than he had in a long time, no circles under his eyes, he was standing taller,...and his hair couldn't stay flat. He ran a hand through it.

"Dean?" he asked.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you, for bringing me with you." He said softly.

 

***

 

Dean froze. He had almost come by himself that morning they left, he had considered leaving Cas behind in the bunker. Something had made him wait, some small voice tugging at the back of his mind. He looked over at Cas, felt the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He was glad he had listened now.

"You're welcome, Cas. Now lets get back before Sam gets worried." They headed off, talking about little things, like the merits of using honey when baking pies, or which state had the most boring highways. Silly things that seemed suddenly so important to Dean. He noticed the birdsong in the trees as they drove by, people singing along to their stereo loudly, and Cas, reclining in the Impala, relaxed, not the stiff backed angel he had been for as long as Dean had known him. He seemed more human to Dean in that moment than he had when he _was_ human.

They pulled up in front of the bunker, and as Dean killed the engine, Cas scooted over across the seat, planting a kiss square on Dean's lips.

"Just in case," he said, sliding across and out of the car before Dean could ask what he meant. They gathered their things and made their way inside.

"Sammy?" Dean called. They heard footsteps and Sam came out of the library in a hurry.

"You're back!" He said.

"Give that man a beer," Dean said, slipping back into his old skin easier than he would have liked.

"Did the angel help? What did they say about the Mark?" Dean noticed Cas slipping away quietly, their bags in his hands.

"She was an angel, Sam. Of course she didn't help," Dean heard the lie in his voice now, instead of being able to convince himself of it. Something had changed in him on this trip, he was definitely a new person now, a new Dean, and he couldn't get away from that. Cas hadn't returned from the bedrooms, and the glow Dean had felt in the car was slowly fading. He realized while he had been lost in thought, Sam had been talking. "What?" he said.

"I said Charlie called, she said she's close to tracking down the Book of the Dead," Sam said, frowning at Dean. "You okay? What happened on your trip?"

"It was..." Dean wanted to lie, wanted to tell Sam it was awful, just so he'd have an excuse to keep him from asking about it. But the bitter taste in his mouth gave him pause.

"Dean?" Sam could tell something was wrong.

"She had bubkiss on the Mark," Dean sighed, clenching and releasing his right fist, "but that's not why I went." He watched Sam's brow furrow.

"Why then?" he asked. Dean saw Cas peek around the doorway from the hall, out of Sam's eyesight. Well, this was it, right? No going back now.

"I went for Cas, to get his grace back." Sam blinked.

"You went for Cas, when you had no idea he'd show up the day before and would even go with you?" Dean felt his ears burn, both from the laugh hiding underneath Sam's words and Cas' smile from across the room.

"I was in a bad place, Sammy. I wanted you both to be whole when I was gone, taken care of. I wanted to take care of my family." Sam clapped Dean on the shoulder fondly.

"We're gonna figure this out before you're 'gone' Dean, then you can keep mothering me all you want." Sam smiled, and Dean couldn't help but smile back. "But did she have a location on Cas' grace?"

"No, but she gave him something. A more permanent grace, at least until he finds his own." He kept looking past Sam to Cas, the smile on his face giving encouragement to Dean. "So he's at about 85%. We'll just have to find his grace some other way." Sam nodded.

"So not a total loss," Sam said.

"You might say that," Dean answered. Sam finally noticed where Dean's eyes were looking and turned, seeing Cas standing there.

"Hey, Cas, I have something for you," Sam said, jogging down the hallway, then back. He handed Cas a bundle of clothes. His suit and his trench coat were cleaned, repaired, and folded neatly in a pile.

"Thank you, Sam," Cas said, holding the clothes in his hands like they were precious. It was more than just a coat, it had become part of Cas' identity. Dean had carried that piece of cloth all over creation with him after he thought Cas had died. He still remembered the moment he got to hand it back, the moment Cas took it from Dean' hands. "I'll go get changed." Cas said, walking away, and Dean tried not to watch him go. Once Cas was out of the room, Dean walked over to the kitchen, Sam on his heels.

"You ever going to tell me what else happened on this trip?" Sam asked. Dean grabbed a beer, chugging a good third of it before even attempting to answer.

"What makes you think something happened?" he asked, trying to sound calm and unconcerned, and probably failing miserably.

"Dean, you're my brother, I know you," he grabbed a beer for himself, sitting down at the counter and giving Dean the puppy eyes. Dean took a deep breath.

"If I tell you, it does not give you licence to bug the crap out of me for all eternity." He stared at the beer in his hand, taking another long swig. Then he spilled, telling Sam everything that had happened. He spared him the details of the night before, but everything about Cas' confession, how he felt about Cas himself. He heard footsteps and looked up. There he was, his angel in a trench coat. Suit, tie, mussed hair, and crooked smile. Dean felt his knees go weak. Sam looked from Dean to Cas, then back to Dean. Cas walked into the kitchen proper, walking up next to Dean but keeping some proper space between them.

"I, uh..." Sam's brow was furrowed. Dean grabbed a bottle of whiskey, pouring out a shot for himself and for Sam. He tossed his back.

"That all you got to say?"

"No, it's just..." Sam broke into a grin, and Dean braced himself for whatever came next. "It's about time." Except for that, he wasn't expecting that.

"Come again?"

"Look, I knew Cas had something for you," Dean felt his ears burn and glanced at Cas, who for some reason couldn't be bothered to look embarrassed. "I just never thought you'd get over yourself enough to see it." Sam was grinning like a fool, lifted his shot and downed it after saluting Dean.

"Good to know you're taking this so well," Dean muttered. Sam pulled out his phone, a deeply pleased look on his face. "Wait, who're you calling?"

"Charlie. We had a bet," Sam said, standing and walking away. Dean just stood there blinking for a bit.

"That went well," Cas said, seemingly unaffected. Dean turned to him.

"How are you so calm about this?" Dean said, turning to Cas, his heart jumping into his throat at the sight of him back in his trench coat. Even after spending the whole trip with him, seeing him back in his coat brought it all home to Dean. That Castiel, this confusing, beautifully human, angel, was in love with him. With Dean, this flawed, damaged, self hating scrap of a man. Not caring if Sam walked in, Dean reached out and grabbed Cas by his trench coat, pulling him in close and planting a kiss on his lips.

"Dean..." Cas began.

"Shut up," Dean said, kissing him again.

"Okay, dude, just because I'm okay with it doesn't mean I want to see it," Sam said, returning to the kitchen. Dean let Cas go quickly, but couldn't hide his smile.

"Yeah, well, get used to it, Sammy."

"I'm going.... somewhere. You two get it out of your system before I get back, okay?" Sam grabbed the keys for the Impala and bolted. Dean couldn't help himself, he burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" Cas asked. Dean shook his head.

"Nothing, really. I'm just... I feel good. For the first time in a very, _very,_ long time." Cas reached out, running his hand over Dean's cheek.

"I'm happy for you," Cas said. He reached down, grabbing Dean's right arm and raising it, kissing the Mark softly. The gentle touches were making Dean tremble.

"Cas..." he breathed. Cas placed a finger over his lips.

"Sam said we should be finished before he gets back," he cooed, leaning in to Dean's neck, nuzzling and kissing.

And that was all it took.

Dean grabbed Cas by the coat, half dragging him back towards the bedrooms. He managed to get the two of them into his bedroom, shutting the door behind them. They stood there for a moment staring at each other, Dean breathing heavier than he should be. Cas' coat was ruffled from Dean's manhandling, his tie pulled askew.  He was smiling, grinning in a way Dean hadn't seen before, and in that moment he was the most beautiful thing Dean had ever seen.  Dean surged forward, pulling the coat off of Cas' shoulders, tossing it aside and immediately pulling off his tie, kissing Cas fiercely. Cas was responding with equal gusto, pulling desperately at Dean's clothes. It was raw, animal passion, and it thrilled Dean, the burn of it surging through his whole body. They were still clumsy, fingers fumbling at buttons and belts, but once the clothes were gone, Dean found himself thrown back onto the bed, Cas' ability to man handle him something totally new.  It lit a fire under Dean's skin and had him wanting more.

"Cas..." he moaned, raking over him with his eyes. Cas walked up to the bed, crawling over top of Dean, kissing him along his stomach and chest as he moved upwards. When he reached Dean's neck, Dean reached out and ran his fingers through his hair, one hand running down his back and pulling him in close. Castiel filled all of Dean's consciousness, occupying every sense and every cell in his body. Cas was humming, the vibrations sending shivers down Dean's spine. Dean tried to sit up, but Cas pushed him back down, grinding his hips into Dean's. Dean moaned, but Cas silenced him with a kiss, licking into Dean's mouth. When the kiss broke both of them were gasping.

"Dean?"

"Cas? You okay babe?"  Cas smiled, running his right hand through Dean's hair.

 "I wish you could see yourself," he breathed.  The adoration in his eyes brought a lump to Dean's throat.  "You look so beautiful."  It was barely audible, just a whisper under Cas' breath, but it said everything to Dean. Everything that needed saying between them, everything they were feeling. He felt emotion surge through his chest, his heart near to bursting. He finally succeeded in flipping Cas over, kissing along his jaw tenderly, then he sat back, kneeling between Cas' legs, just admiring his angel.   _His_ angel.  Something happened then, something clicked in Dean and before he could even stop to think about it his mouth opened and words he never thought he'd say again were tumbling out of his mouth.

 

***

 

"I love you, Cas." The words rolled off Dean's tongue, and it took Cas a moment before he realized what Dean was saying, what Dean was admitting to. Cas reached his hand out, running it across Dean's cheek as Dean leaned in closer, stroking Dean's lips with his thumb. "I love you," Dean repeated, running his fingers through Cas' hair, his touches so delicate Cas almost couldn't feel them. He felt a strange warmth bubble up inside his chest. Dean's delicate touches continued, all along Cas' face, neck, hair, shoulders. Cas couldn't help himself, he giggled as Dean's fingertips ran down his sides.  Dean smiled, running his palms down Cas' chest, his touch getting stronger, more needy. Dean ran his hands along Cas' stomach and hips, pulling him closer to his own hips. He leaned in, Cas' erection pressing into his stomach as he kissed him. His hands never stopped, running all over Cas, his chest, back, hips, ass, and thighs. Eventually, they made it to Cas' erection, wrapping gently around him and squeezing. Cas wanted to laugh, to weep, to scream all at once. Instead, he grabbed hold of the back of Dean's neck, pulling him in for a punishing kiss.

"Take me," he breathed. Dean's eyes widened, and Cas lifted his hips into Dean's, feeling Dean's arousal pressed against him. "Please, Dean. I want you, I want to feel you." Cas knew how this should work (thanks Metatron for putting _every_ movie ever made in his mind), and he desperately wanted to feel Dean that way, a want that was pulsing through his whole being.  He felt Dean shudder, then his hands pushed Cas back on the bed. Dean leaned over Cas to get to his bedside table, grabbing a bottle of lube. Cas watched, nerves and excitement balling up in his stomach, his body aching for more touches. He watched as Dean poured a generous amount of lube on his hand, slide into place, and reached down behind Cas, slowly sliding a finger inside him. Cas' head fell back, and Dean started raining kisses and love nips down his stomach, sliding down the bed to continue them along his inner thighs. The sensation was new to Cas, but it wasn't bad. It was _far_ from bad. As Dean worked him open, he felt anticipation building in his gut, unable to hold still under Dean's ministrations. He kept squirming, moving up into Dean's kisses and down into Dean's hand at the same time.

"Cas, you gotta give me a chance here," Dean groaned, holding down Cas' hips with one hand while he worked another finger into Cas. Without warning, Dean's fingers brushed against Cas' prostate, and he arched off the bed, crying out.  "Easy, babe," Dean cooed, kissing along his hip bones softly, the gentleness of his kisses a sharp contrast to the building need in Cas.  Cas was whimpering, he was losing control over his body and it was the most wonderful feeling. Every touch, every move Dean was making was driving him absolutely crazy. After Dean had three fingers moving freely inside Cas, he couldn't wait anymore.

"Dean, please..." he begged, not ashamed of the way his voice came out as a whine.  "I need you inside me."  Dean pulled his hand away, only leaving Cas alone for a few moments before he slid up his body, trailing soft kisses along his stomach as he pulled himself into position.

"I got you," Dean breathed, placing the tip of his erection against Cas' entrance. Slowly, he pushed inside, until he was buried all the way inside him. Dean whispered hushed praises against Cas' skin, and both of them froze, wrapped in each other's embraces, gasping for air. Cas relished the feeling of Dean, his warmth and his body against Cas', but also his soul, glowing brightly and seeping through his skin into Cas. This intimacy was wonderful, but there was an urgency in Cas' veins, a need, and he rolled his hips into Dean to show him he was ready.  As Dean started to move, it was all Cas could do to hang on to Dean, to hold tight while everything he was became part of everything that was Dean. His fingers were digging bruises into Dean's back, but Dean didn't seem to mind.  He was making a few marks of his own, sucking and biting at Cas' chest and shoulders.

" _Dean,"_ It came out like a prayer, and Dean looked up and met Castiel's eyes.

"So good, babe," Dean gasped, wrapping an arm around Cas' back, holding him close.  Their movements became desperate, slick sweat covered bodies writhing together in unison. Cas couldn't last much longer, every thrust Dean made causing him to see sparks. On one particularly deep thrust, Cas felt himself crying out, his voice escaping his throat in a hoarse sob.

"Found it," Dean whispered seductively. He began to take Cas apart, thrusting into the same spot, and Cas started to lose his sight, his voice, all that was left in the world was Dean. Dean was holding him in a vicelike grip, Cas' face buried in the crook of his neck, clinging to Dean as they rocked together.  Something started building inside Cas, pushing and pushing at the surface until it burst forth in a white hot flash, consuming Cas, his teeth clamping down onto Dean's shoulder. He was dimly aware of Dean's orgasm through the haze of his own, Dean's whole body going slack and collapsing on top of him. He wrapped his arms around Dean, running a hand through his hair, taking in the whiskey scent like a drug.  There was no going back for them now.  Whatever the future held, they would face it together.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too." Dean whispered back.

 

 ***

Sam walked back into the bunker a few hours later to find Dean and Cas sitting on the couch, watching a movie. Cas' jacket, coat, and tie were missing, but other than that Dean had been considerate of his little brother, no further evidence of... whatever brain bleachable acts they'd gotten up to.  He grabbed a beer and walked out to join them, smiling at the sight of his brother half cuddled up on the couch with a scruffy angel of the Lord wearing a button up shirt and slacks.  He picked up on some conversation about how the Ark of the Covenant didn't really look that way, and the merits of movie storytelling.  When he thought Sam was watching the movie, he snuck a kiss against Cas' temple, making the angel smile.  Sam's heart warmed at the sight, in spite of the disgusted groan that earned him a pillow to the face.  If his brother and Cas were finally able to make this work then maybe, just maybe, they had a chance to save Dean after all.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave some Kudos and Comments! I love hearing what you all think!


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